The Clone and his girl
by SG-girl
Summary: I just woke up, haven't had coffee, let alone a pee in seven days, and I find out you stole my ass and made a... mini...me.
1. Chapter One

_**Title: The Clone and His Girl **_

_**By: Hannah**_

**_Rating: M_ **

_**Disclaimer: I own everything but Stargate and all its components. **_

_**Spoilers: TO be on the safe side, let's go seasons 1-7.**_

_**(&)**_

_**Helena: Newsflash, its high school. The closest thing our society has to institutionalized torture.**_

_**Birds of Prey**_

_**(&)**_

_**Angel**_

"Sooooo, how was your date?" I tried to ignore the voice at my elbow as I pawed through the unsteady pile of books in the top part of my locker. I'd just gotten out of Biology and barely survived the period.

See, at some point earlier in my life, I'd read 'The Inferno', and I was fairly certain that it had never mentioned anything about the periodic table being the seventh circle of hell. It seemed like Dante could have at least put in a foot-note to warn the unsuspecting students of the 21st century.

At least it was over. I had sophomore English next and that was marginally better than Bio, but was pointless unless I had my coffee-stained, dog-chewed copy of the novel we were reading.

"Are you ignoring me?" I pushed aside my Algebra book and a couple of empty Dutch Bros. Cups and found 'The Anthem' stuffed into the back of my locker. With a triumphant grunt, I pulled it free, and then, slamming the locker door, I turned to glare at the teenage boy who stood beside me. However, since Jon had at least half a foot on me, I had to glare _up _at him.

"The _date, _if you want to call it that, was awkward. _You _didn't tell me he was anti-sports." I said, pushing away from my locker and into the crush of students that attended Colorado Springs High School. Jon followed, attaching himself to the back of my Three Dog Night t-shirt.

"Well, I figured you two could talk about something other than pounding people into various forms of terrain." Jon muttered in my ear as we got crushed together between a pack of football players and a troupe of drama students. I scowled as we dodged around a band student who was assembling her trumpet in the middle of the hallway and into Mr. Walker's classroom.

As usual, we made for our seats in the far, back right corner of the classroom and settled into our table. Our usual spot was actually a really crappy place if you wanted to hear what the teacher was saying, but Jon and I didn't pay attention during fifth period, which was probably why we both had D's in the class.

"I thought sports were the universal guy language. What else was I gonna talk about? Books, movies, art, music? Okay, maybe _that _was his problem. He kept trying to bring up Broadway. Swell, Jon, you fixed me up with a gay guy." Jon shot me a dirty look as he pulled his copy of 'The Anthem' out of his backpack and opened it on the desk. I followed suit.

"Max isn't gay. He's… cultured." Jon muttered, reaching into his bag for his GameBoy. I rolled my eyes and pulled out my sketch-pad.

"Proof positive number one… belt matched shoes. Proof positive numero dos… he didn't wear white socks with black slacks. So, either he was gay or he's a closet metro-sexual just bursting to get out." I said, opening to my latest sketch, a picture of Jon asleep at his desk. I'd gotten the idea from a picture that a friend in photography had snapped when Jon had conked out in the middle of Geometry one day. Jon looked at my sketch, rolled his eyes, and went back to his game.

Ever since our first meeting during the middle of the second quarter of the first semester at the end of sixth period PE is which I knocked him unconscious while coming back from the office in an accident that had almost broken his nose, we'd become best friends.

We have a lot of things in common, despite our polar opposite personalities. We both like sports, mostly football and hockey. We're both related to people in the United States Air Force (my big brother, his uncle). We both like eighties music, detest powers ballads and yet, know every single word to 'I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight'. And for the crowning touch, we're both adept at sneaking into bars without getting carded, a talent that has landed us in hot water several times.

I fell asleep five minutes into class, the drawl of Mr. Walker's voice lulling me into unconsciousness. The next thing I knew Jon was shaking me awake. I lifted my head from the desk and glanced blearily around the room, which was quickly emptying. Gathering my things, I stumbled to my feet and into Jon's chest. He steadied me with an arm around the waist and we quickly vacated the room before Mr. Walker could ask for my essay on the differences and similarities between Communism and the governmental structure in 'The Anthem'… which was five days late.

We headed towards the gym for PE, yet another class we had together. Jon and I had all but second period together when he had Auto Mechanics and I had Art. Since we were together most of the day, school wasn't as initially bad as I thought it could be, since I was considered a loser.

I didn't fit in around school mainly because I didn't fit in with any particular clique, since I was kind of a combination of all of them. I blame my big brother's parenting techniques. Jon and I separated at our respective locker room doors.

A few minutes later, I staggered out of the girl's locker room, still trying to wake up. I tripped over the half-court line and almost fell flat on my face as I headed to the bleachers. Outside, it had been raining for the past three days, despite it being the middle of May, and thusly PE had been moved to the gym.

Jon had saved me a seat beside him. The cheerleaders on the few front rows refused to move, so I just sort of bulldozed my way through, earning a few nasty curses. I finally settled onto the seat beside him and rested my head on his shoulder. The cheerleaders glared at me for that.

The final bell rang and our gym teacher, Miss Murphy strode around the side of the bleachers, clipboard at the ready. Miss Murphy looks like a light breeze can blow her over, but looks are deceiving. After school, she coaches Jon's hockey team at the local ice rink. Having seen her body-check a few cocky hockey players into the boards, ticking her off is not something high on my to-do list.

"Since the administration has been getting pressure from the PTA to prepare you for life in the big city where most of you will be attending college and because I'm sure you're all tired of basketball." Almost all of our classmate's heads swiveled toward Jon and me. We had a notorious reputation for being rough no matter what sport we played. But hey, I played football, sixth grade through eighth and I currently worked as an assistant coach/mentor with the junior high team. Jon played hockey three nights a week in a community league. Competition was in our blood.

"We're going to be covering the basics of self-defense for the next few weeks." I groaned and was echoed by half the class. Jon was a lot better at hand to hand than I was. And by a lot better, I meant that the only training I'd had was from him. The next statement pulled a groan out of everyone.

"I'll pair you off." When a teacher said that, it meant that you weren't going to like the partner that you were paired with and that no amount of cajoling, whining or pleading would get you out of said partnership.

"Jon, you'll be with Carrie." Jon groaned. Where as I am an outsider in the cool world, Jon is readily accepted for reasons that he says astound him. Carrie Henderson is a cheerleader who had made it quite obvious what she wanted and that the flavor of the month was 'Jon' I was strongly disliked by Carrie because I had what she wanted. Sort of. Jon leaned over and whispered in my ear.

"If she grabs my butt like last time, I'm gonna smack her. I know it's wrong to hit a girl, but I'm gonna smack her." I rolled my eyes. Jon talked tough, but in all likelihood, he'd blush furiously, and pretend it never happened until we got to his house after school and then he'd rant and rave until I turned on _Sports Center _and he'd forget what he was talking about.

"Angel," I raised my head to look at Miss Murphy. "You'll be with Geoff." I grunted and prayed the bleachers would suddenly fold back into the wall, thereby crushing me to death, thereby ensuring that I did not have to partner with Geoff Patterson.

Geoff was rich, good-looking, and unfortunately, he had talent on the basketball court. He also thought he was God's gift to the female race. A gift that was wasted on red-heads who ate tofu, could kick his butt on the football field, and there were other reasons, but they were a little too painful to remember.

Geoff eyed me with a look that bespoke pure disdain as I walked down the bleachers and jumped the last one, landing next to him with a thud. I folded my arms across my chest and eyed him with pretty much the same look. He wore a Miami Heat jersey with Shaq's number, matching shorts and a pair of Nike's that looked like they cost more than my entire wardrobe. I wore a tank-top with the USAF logo on the chest and a pair of sweatpants I'd snitched from my brother. I think Geoff was disgusted that I wasn't wearing the usual half-spandex, half-hooker workout clothes that so many of my classmates wore.

"You ready, flower-power?" He asked. I rolled my eyes.

"Oh, yeah, Geoff. Real original. Flower Power. Oh, you kill me. Ha. Ha. Ha." Sarcasm is a gift I'm both blessed and cursed with.

"Shut up." He muttered and turned back to look at Miss M. I stuck my tongue out at the back of his head, but did the same thing.

Miss M was explaining and demonstrating the right way to break a hold should some sweaty, stinky bad guy try and grab you. Jon was her current mannequin of choice while Carrie looked on adoringly. I pretty much figured it out through the first demonstration. It took Geoff a few more tries and a lot more whining.

"Ready?" It was a stupid question because the whole point of the exercise was to surprise your victim, i.e., me. Geoff grabbed me and with a quick twist, I was free. Geoff shrugged, obviously not caring that his skills as an attacker were lousy. I guess the females of CS High were safe for a little while longer.

"You ready?" I asked and with serious trepidation reached out and grabbed his wrist. The next thing I knew I was flat on my back, gasping for air.

"Hey!" The yell came from my left and sounded particularly incensed. It was Jon. If I hadn't been too busy trying to breathe, I'd have been honored.

"You okay?" Jon asked as he landed on his knees next to me, doing that cute little concerned thing he did where his forehead wrinkled up. From somewhere on my left, I heard Geoff's voice.

"Sorry, Miss Murphy, I guess she wasn't paying attention." Incensed, I started to say something that involved a four-letter word, but it came out more like a four-letter wheeze. Miss M crouched next to me.

"You okay, kid?" I nodded, even though that hurt too. Miss M checked me over with clinical precision born from making sure her victims on the ice were still breathing.

"Yeah, you're good." She said and popped to her feet with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Okay, kiddo, time to get up." I glared at Jon. Mostly for the 'kiddo' comment. He knows I hate pet names. Still, I was glad when Jon slid his hands under my armpits and hauled me up. I clung to him as my world severely tilted.

"Over on the bleachers." Miss M said and turned her attention to Geoff who was laughing about it with his friends. Jon slid a hand under my knees and swept me up into his arms. He's surprisingly strong for his size.

"While I'm sure this is unerringly romantic to some people, will you put me down?" I said. Jon laughed and carried me over to the bleachers.

"Unfortunately, I will be unable to provide you with comfort during your apparent time of need." However, I will be able to provide you with entertainment." He said, crouched in front of me, hands resting on my knees. He looked pitiful beyond belief.

"I give you my thanks, faithful court jester." I said, patting him on the head, wheezing a lot less this time. He gave me one more pitiful look before he rose to his feet and headed back to Carrie, who had been glaring at me over his back.

I smirked, even though I wasn't really a smirking mood and flopped over onto my back where I proceeded to spend the rest of the period, watching Jon run around the gym, two steps ahead of Carrie's wandering hands.


	2. Chapter Two

_**Jack O'Neill: I just woke up, haven't had coffee, let alone a pee in seven days, and I find out you stole my ass and made a… mini…me.**_

_**-Stargate: SG1**_

_**(&)**_

_**Jon**_

I'm forty-nine years old and currently stuck in the body of a fifteen year old high school student. The irony is so great that I'm going to shoot myself.

However, during the inevitably long and tedious process of finding someone in Colorado Springs who will sell a gun to a minor, I will still be forced to deal with reality, which entails dealing with the teenage girl's hands that are creeping their way up my butt.

I looked over towards the bleachers for moral support from Angel, only to find her doubled over in laughter. Despite her recent meeting with the gym floor, she looked none too worse for the wear. Maybe when I got the gun, I'd shoot her instead.

'Sorry,' she mouthed when she saw me looking. Why I hung out with her was anybody's guess.

'Hmm,' my subconscious popped up for a little chat. 'Maybe because she's beautiful, she reminds you of Carter, she's pretty much your idea of the perfect woman, and…' I shook my head and my subconscious shut up as it got bounced around. Sometimes I think too much for my own good.

"Jon?" I woke up from my internal argument to find Candy smiling at me. She was probably smiling because she'd figured out that after all that groping that she had a future in medicine and wouldn't need to marry a rich doctor like her mom wanted her too.

"Uh, yeah?" I asked, taking a step away from her, just in case her hands started to wander again.

"Are you ready to try the next move?" It was moving how much a simple sentence could sound like a pick-up line and a bad one at that.

"Right, uh, the next move. You go first." I said and took a step back.

_**(&)**_

I stumbled out of the locker room, looking forward to sleeping during Civics. Angel was leaning against the wall next to the door, already changed out of her PE clothes and back into her civvies, messenger bag balanced on her hip.

"Oh, how's my poor widdle baby?" Angel asked as I walked up. I scowled down at her as she slung her arms around my neck and batted her lashes. The physical contact wasn't anything new. After I'd gotten back from the ER after our first meeting, she'd almost crushed the life out of me in an apology hug. What was surprising was that I wasn't a hands on kind of guy and yet I let her get away with the touchy feely.

"You were laughing." I accused.

"Not on purpose." Angel said, pulling away. I rolled my eyes and headed off down the hallway as she slid her hand into mine. I rolled my eyes again, but pulled her along.

"How do you not laugh on purpose?" I asked, threading my way through the bustling population of Colorado Springs High.

"Um, y'know, I'm actually not sure." Angel said, running into me as I stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. I had good reason because somdething from my nightmares was headed my way.

"Jon." Angel protested, peeling herself off me and peeking around my side to see what had caused the sudden stop. She froze when she saw the nightmare.

"Hey, Jon." Candy said, smirking at me. I almost took a step back, but Angel being right behind me KO'd that plan.

"Oh, uh, hey, Candy." The smirk froze on her face and I knew I'd said something wrong. Angel had her face pressed against my arm. I felt her snort in laughter.

"Oh, how sweet. You gave me a nickname." Candy said, the smile growing. I turned to look down at Angel.

"Not Candy?" I asked, sotto voce. She shook her head.

"Carrie." Angel whispered and I didn't miss the look that Can-Carrie shot her.

"Angel, don't you have something to be painitng?" Carrie snapped, scowling at my red-headed cling-on. I felt Angel shrug.

"Probably. Don't you have some poor freshman to be seducing into the janitor's closet on the third floor?" Angel calmly replied, stepping away from me and folding her arms across her chest.

The hormonal teenage-boy side of me was screamsing 'cat-fight'! The grown-up, military side of me was placing odds that Angel could knock Carrie out with one punch… it was also screaming cat-fight.

Carrie blinked at Angel like she had just grown another head. I took a step back, not wanting to get caught in the middle should an actual fight ensue. Luckily before it could come to that, the bell rang, alerting us that we were late for seventh period. A class which was clear on the other side of school. Angel cursed and slid her hand into mine again.

"C'mon." She said, ignoring Carrie, probably something the girl wasn't used to. I nudged Angel forward, past Carrie and down the now empty hall. She scowled, but kept walking, leaving me behind. For a minute, I was kind of frozen, just watching her walk away. She had a Captain Jack Sparrow sun-drunk walk that from a male perspective was just purely entertaining.

"Jon?" Carrie had her hands propped on her hips and she did not look happy.

"Uh, sorry, Can, uh, Carrie, I gotta get to class." I left her standing in the hallway and raced to catch with Angel.

_**(&)**_

"Daniel." I nodded at him as I slid into the front jeep of his jeep. There was a thump and a curse as Angel jerked open the back door and jumped from the curb into the jeep. I glanced back. She'd managed to land on her stomach, sprawled across the backseat.

"I give it a 5.9." I said and earned a four-letter word for my trouble. Daniel tried to hide a smile.

"Hey, Danny." Angel acknowledged, sitting up and closing the door with a crack. I waited for a howl that told me she'd shut her fingers in the door, but there was no sound.

"Can we keep the car in one piece? And put your seatbelt on." Daniel said as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the street. Angel made a face at him from the backseat, but dutifully buckled her belt.

Unless Daniel was off-world, he usually came and picked me up from school. His argument was that he was chaperoning Angel and I. However, having worked with him for seven years, I knew him better than that. He felt responsible for me, annoying, considering that I was older than him, but looked like I could be his kid.

Reality knocked by means of Angel smacking me on the back of the head and telling me to stop pouting because I failed my Civics test. I rolled my eyes and settled back in the front seat and listened to her prattle on about a Discovery channel special she'd seen while Daniel was on his trip.

That was our official story for her. That Daniel traveled a lot. And it wasn't even a lie. Sort of. He _did _travel a lot. Just to other worlds where there were creatures that burrowed into your brain. We'd left that part out for national security reasons.

"This guy was a total crack-pot. He basically said that the entire Egyptian culture was based off aliens. I mean, c'mon? Aliens?" I shot a look at Daniel who was staring straight out the windshield. He didn't look too upset about Angel's rambling, but I wasn't going to take any chances on upsetting Space Monkey.

"Hey, Angel, let's shut up." I said, reaching for the radio dial. She rolled her eyes, but stopped talking. I flipped through the channels until I found a classic rock station. No one disputed my choice in music and we settled into comfortable silence.

We drove for a little bit until it occurred to me that we'd missed the turn-off to my apartment about a mile ago.

"Hey, Daniel, you miss the turn-off?" I asked. In the backseat, Angel sat up straighter, looking around in curiosity.

"Daniel. Earth to Daniel." Angel said, leaning forward on the center console as Daniel pulled into the driveway of a house for sale.

"Thinking of buying a new house? 'Cause, Dan, you can do better." Angel said, wrinkling her nose.

I saw the dull gleam of metal seconds before I heard the familiar click of a zat. I didn't move fast enough to protect myself or Angel before the blue bolt struck me in the chest. The last thing I remembered was Angel's cry being cut short before I was unconscious.


	3. Chapter Three

**_House: So, what's your plan? You take the big dark one, I'll take the little girl, and the Aussie will run like a scared wombat if things get tough._**

_**House**_

_**(&)**_

_**Angel**_

My head hurt. My back hurt. My left big toe hurt. My neck hurt. Just about everything on my body hurt. Badly. And… I had the sneaking suspicion that I was lying in water… that smelled bad.

I pried my eyes open and screamed. The investigating duck quacked loudly and took a few flying jumps backwards. I sat up and looked around.

It turns out that I was indeed lying in water. The shallows of the Jefferson Park duck pond to be precise. I knew this because five feet away was a sign that read '_Jefferson Park Duck Pond. Please Don't Feed the Animals_,' even though we always did and some pigeon inevitably blew up because it ate rice or something.

Something slimy started to run down the side of my head and I really hoped it wasn't what I thought it was. Unfortunately, it was. I cursed as I wiped duck poop out of my hair.

The duck watched all this with mild fascination, including my sudden leap out of the duck pond when I found out that the tickling sensations at my legs were fish. It followed me as I made my way from the duck pond, down the pathway to the front gate and quacked at me as I scrambled over the gate and fell on my butt on the other side. Then, Donald waddled back to the pond.

As usual, out front of the park, a police cruiser was parked to discourage kids from sneaking into the park and partying with the ducks. It was just a little bit redundant because we all snuck in through the break in the fence that ran around the bike path. And the 'partying' mainly consisted of kids main-lining Red-Bull until they couldn't see straight and then getting into wrestling matches that alerted the police cruiser that they were there.

The uniform in the car spilled coffee in his lap when I knocked on the window of his car. The look on his face almost made up for the throbbing in my head. The cursing certainly made it a little more interesting. He climbed out of his car, hand resting on his sidearm.

"You okay, miss?" He asked, holding his free hand out in front of him as if he was calming down. I bit back the sarcastic and certainly nasty retort that tried to jump out of my mouth and managed a smile that came out more like a snarl.

"No, actually, I don't think I am." The cop eyed me as he clicked his radio.

"Dispatch, I'm gonna need a bus at the entrance to Jefferson Park." I just gritted my heart even harder and faked a smile.

The next few hours were a blur as paramedics checked me over and told me that I had a mild concussion. Then I was whisked away to the Colorado Springs Police Department where I was pushing into the woman's locker room and told not to come out until all the duck poop was gone.

After that I got a black CSPD sweatshirt because my Three Dog Night t-shirt hadn't survived the duck poop and finally ended up on a booking bench between a guy who couldn't quit puking and a guy who was talking to the sock on his hand. If the eye rolling and snorting meant anything, the police officers were having a hard time exploring my story about being kidnapped and dumped in the duck pond. They kept gathering around the water cooler across the bull-pen and talking to each other, all the while glancing over at me.

I'd pretty much resigned myself to sitting on the bench for the rest of my life, since several calls to my house hadn't turned up my brother, when the front doors to the precinct opened and in walked Daniel, followed by friends.

I had a slight nervous breakdown, resulting in me screaming at the top of my lungs and falling backwards over the bench. Daniel just stared at me. Even the guy talking to his sock stopped and stared.

"You, you, you, you." My mouth got stuck on repeat as one of the officers threw me over his shoulder and manhandled me into an interrogation room. The rough handling cleared up my fear almost instantly and I demanded a lawyer. That didn't go over so well.

I sat in the interrogation room, my forehead resting on my arms as I tried to remember the last time I'd been in this much trouble. Even the time I blew up my bed when I was twelve didn't come close to this.

Then I started thinking about ways to get out of my current situation. Since this involved evading a precinct full of armed officers, a puking guy, and Daniel and his mercenary friends, well, I wasn't coming up with any really great ideas.

I'd just hit on an interesting idea involving whipped cream, a team of sled dogs and a DVD copy of _My Fair Lady_ when the door opened and Daniel walked in followed by a really, really big black guy. I fell out of my chair.

"Angel." I flinched as he started towards me and he stopped, a pained expression crossing his face. It was almost as if he didn't know why I was scared of him. I figured he was a better actor than I thought.

"Just stay there." I said, putting the table, my chair and a few feet of empty space between us as I backed into a corner.

"Angel, what's wrong?" Daniel asked, looking as sad as my old hound dog, Bernard, used to look when I wouldn't give him biscuits. Then I remembered that Daniel had slugged me in the face and scowled. Anger took over.

"What's wrong? You wanna know what's wrong? You kidnapped me and Jon. You hit me in the face. You dumped me in the duck pond. And now you're suddenly Mr. Innocent? Uh-uh, I ain't buyin' it. So, you can just turn and march your traitor ass right out of here." I snapped, breathing hard after my tirade. The other man arched an eyebrow.

"I do not believe she is behaving rationally, Daniel Jackson." I turned my attention on the big black guy who regarded me with all the love one would show a really loud, irritating beetle.

"And you? What'd he do? Hire you to make sure I sleep with the fishes?" I was well aware that my voice was rapidly approaching hysterical and that I wasn't going to be able to keep my calm for much longer. The big guy looked confused.

"Angel, I just got back from a trip an hour ago. I have no idea what you're talking about." Daniel implored, taking one more step towards me. I was about as far back in the corner as I could get and it seemed like climbing the wall was my next option.

"Yeah, right." I snapped. Daniel and his friend exchanged looks.

"I'll be back." He said, slowly backing away from me.

"Oh, sure. What're you gonna kidnap me again?" I yelled as he edged out of the room. His friend remained next to the door, adopting a military at ease position, sizing me up, although I was about as much of a threat to him as a bug was to a windshield.

"What the hell are you looking at?" I yelled and grabbed my chair, pulling it back into the corner. My life was a living hell and judging by what I was getting out of what nobody was telling me, it wasn't gonna get better any time soon.


	4. Chapter Four

_**O'Neill: It's time for Plan B.**_

_**Carter: We have a Plan B?**_

_**O'Neill: No, but it's time for one.**_

_**Stargate: SG1**_

_**(&)**_

_**Jon**_

Once. Just once. Maybe even twice, I'd like to wake up without a splitting headache. I can count on one hand the number of times that I've woken up after a refreshing sleep that wasn't the result of a hangover, being shot with a gun, being shot with a staff weapon, being shot with a zat, being hit over the head with a staff weapon, running face first into a shield, being punched, being drugged, or various other means used to make someone unconscious against their will.

I couldn't even open my eyes, although the first time I tried didn't really inspire me to do it again. The rough material of the blindfold kept my eyelids from opening even a quarter of an inch and the ingenious method of tying me up had me efficiently unable to move. The nasty tasting gag in my mouth just made things uncomfortable. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened, but it was the first time my new body and it was preferable to being tied up with my forty-nine year old knees complaining the entire time. Angel would probably…

My brain trailed off mid-thought as I remembered Angel. Where was she? Was she in the same room as me? Was she unconscious? Was she lying next to me, wondering where I was too? Was she… No, I stopped that thought before it could finish.

Angel had probably driven our kidnappers so batty that they'd dumped her on some street corner and told her to never go into the intelligence business for all their sakes. She had then probably been picked up by some patrol car and taken to the police station where she entertained some rookie cop with stories of being the only girl on the eighth grade football team. She'd have a massive mug of coffee and her eyes would be sparkling and her mouth would be twisted into that sexy… 'Oh, god,' I thought. 'Get me the hell out of here.'

I tried to move as a means of distracting myself from the mental pictures of Angel smiling over the rim of a coffee mug. This resulted in my left shoulder and the side of my head making a sudden and painful collision with the floor as I tipped over.

After I regained my wits, I managed to ascertain that the floor I was sitting on was tile. I took it as a good sign. There were only about a hundred million tile floors throughout the United States. Of course, I might not have been in the US, so, that would add up to… oh, about a two-hundred billion. Oh, it definitely wasn't going to take a long time to find me. In fact, I imagined a strike team was poised to take down the building I was in even as I was thinking about them.

So, I lay there waiting for my rescue. Finally, I drifted off, waiting for the sound of concussion grenades and automatic weapons fire.

_**(&)**_

I wasn't sure what time it was when I woke up, but I did know what woke me up. Someone was in the room with me. Footsteps came close to my head. Then again, considering the disorientation I was dealing with, well, my feet could have been my head.

"So, I finally get to meet the famous Colonel Jack O'Neill. Well, his clone, at least." The voice was familiar. Too familiar. It was Daniel. Or in this case, the person playing Daniel. Anyway, the guy needed to watch a couple of James Bond movies. His villainous one-liners were pitiful. I said as much, but the gag didn't let it escape.

'Daniel' didn't say anything else, but I could hear him breathing. Finally, a foot nudged me in the side and I flopped onto my back. My abused shoulder complained loudly. Then the footsteps moved away from me and the door closed.

"Yeah. So, I'll just wait here then." I mumbled into the gag.

_**(&)**_

I fell asleep again. And dreamed. It wasn't a particular pleasant dream because it involved talking Twinkies and a gray kangaroo.

I was pulled out of my nightmare by a couple of hands that grabbed the back of my shirt and dragged me across the floor. Had I been untied I would have fought. The hog-tied style that I'd been bound in, however, discouraged movement, so I went along for the ride.

Someone picked me up with a grunt. I found that offensive. I didn't weight that much. Still, I wished for a little more padding when my carrier dropped me onto a hard metal surface without so much as a how-do-you-do. My tail-bone joined my shoulder in protesting.

"I want a full spectrum of tests and do a complete physical." 'Daniel' was back. It was nice to know that I had someone who cared about me in the room.

"I'm going to need to remove his bonds." My handler said, resting a hand on my arm. I moved to protest my handling and got flicked on the ear. As if I was some sort of toddler that wasn't behaving.

"Only if you have a guard in the room." 'Daniel' said. I grinned into my gag at that. 'Oh, yes, remove the bonds,' I thought. 'I very much want the chance to crack you open like an egg.' 'Daniel' ruined that for me.

"An armed guard. And don't speak to the clone." There was silence and then the door opened and closed. I moved a little bit, trying to ascertain my new position. It was a table one that rolled apparently because I rocked back and forth a bit.

"Hello?" I called into the gag. No one answered. Not even a flick on the ear. I was alone again.

'Oh, boy, this is gonna be a long imprisonment,' I thought as I went back to waiting for the concussion grenades.


	5. Chapter Five

**_Brenda Leigh Johnson_****_: Do I look hurt to you, Will?  
_****_Will Pope_****_: No. Unless I'm mistaken, that's your angry face._**

_**-The Closer**_

_**(&)**_

_**Angel**_

I was in trouble. There was no two or fifteen ways around it. Trouble was what I was in and I had no way out, well, not unless the Justice League was in the area.

"Angel." I looked up as the door opened, expecting Daniel or one of his friends. It was my big brother, Sgt. Seth Connor, still wearing his uniform. It looked like he'd come straight from work.

When we were younger every time that Seth and I touched, one of us ended up bruised, bleeding or crying about something. But now, we were older and I let him pick me up in a massive bear hug. I yelped when my split lip bumped his shoulder and he pulled back like he'd been tasered. I endured his exam, quietly pleased that he was there. Now someone would believe me about Daniel.

As if he'd picked up on my wavelengths, Daniel poked his head into the room.

"Seth?" He said. I clung a little tighter to my brother who had to crane his neck around to see the intruder.

"Be right there, Dr. Jackson." Seth turned back to me and started to untangle my hands from the front of his jacket.

"I'll be right back, I promise. It's okay. You're safe now." He said, using the tone of voice that suggested he was talking to a toddler. I stopped clinging at that statement and kicked him in the shin as hard as I could. He grunted, hopping a little bit as he glared down at me.

"I am most definitely _not_ safe." I hissed, grabbing the front of his jacket and hauling his face close to mine. "Dr. Jackson is the one who kidnapped me. That doesn't make me safe." Seth's family trait blue eyes widened as I pulled him closer.

"Seth?" Daniel's head poked back through the door. I glared at him over Seth's shoulder. Daniel eyed me and vanished.

"Angel, Dr. Jackson didn't kidnap you." Seth said, using his considerably stronger grip to disengage my hands. Just like when we were younger, he picked me and sat me on the table.

"I can guarantee it. Dr. Jackson is a good guy. In fact, he's trying to help us find Jon." Seth explained, batting my hands away when I reached for him again. I get clingy in times of danger. "I'll be right outside the door, okay?" He turned to go, but then turned back.

"Oh, and watch the language. I work with these people." Then he was gone. I kicked the table leg, pouting like a little kid. Great, just great. Even my own brother thought Daniel was a great guy. It seemed I was the only one who knew he was bad news.

I knew it was just a matter of time before Daniel went Darth Vader psycho on me again. Problem was that saving the day… wasn't exactly my area of expertise. So I sulked.

_**(&)**_

The entire interrogation room was filled. It was a good thing I wasn't claustrophobic because I had Daniel and his big friend who had been introduced as Murray on one side and Seth and some guy in an Air Force dress uniform on my other side. I was sitting so close to Seth that a few more centimeters and I would have been in his lap.

Sitting in front of me was a massive mug of coffee that Daniel had carried into the room and put in front of me. I had eyed it, wondering if Daniel would be stupid enough to poison me in the middle of the police station. As if sensing my reluctance, he'd sighed and taken a drink before pushing it back in front of me. I pushed it right back. He scowled at me.

"Okay, let's go back. From the beginning." I made a face at Daniel. We'd already been over my story eight times. This interrogation technique was apparently supposed to jar my memory. I was thinking that if my memory got jarred one more time, then my head would explode from the headache pounding in my temples. I opened my mouth to tell Daniel to shove it when the interrogation room door opened and two people stepped in.

They were a couple, even if they tried not to show it. She was cute, blonde and military, judging by her posture. He was handsome, older, and military, judging by the Government Issue Beretta that he wore at his hip. I knew from experience that Seth's was locked out in his truck under the driver's seat.

"Miss anything?" The newly arrived man asked, looking at me. Or at least I thought he was looking at me. The baseball cap he wore and the dim lighting of the interrogation room shadowed most of his face.

"Angel was just getting ready to repeat her story for us." Daniel said, looking relieved at the arrival of more allies. I dropped my chin into my hands and sighed. Daniel had a one track mind.

"So, repeat it all ready." The guy said, swinging a chair around and offering it to the woman. She shook her head and so the guy dragged it closer to Murray and straddled it.

"Daniel kidnapped me." I muttered, scratching the side of my face with my middle finger. Seth nudged me under the table and I retracted the appendage.

"I didn't kidnap you. Can we please establish that right now?" Daniel said, wearing his exasperated look.

"Oh, yeah?" I retorted. "Then how'd I get the split lip?" All eyes zeroed in my bottom lip.

"I didn't do that." Daniel sighed.

"This is a very serious matter, Miss Connor. Please cooperate with Dr. Jackson." The guy in uniform said, looking strict and military-ish.

"Make me." Okay, it was third-grade, immature and because of what I was going through, completely reasonable. The room stilled as six adult gazes directed their disapproval towards me.

"Angel." Seth's tone of voice was warning. I kept my gaze on the coffee mug. The gold around the rim was chipped, probably the result of being a coffee mug in a police station.

"Angel?" I looked up. Daniel was trying not to smile. Somehow this didn't coincide with the kidnapping phenom who knocked me loopy a few hours ago. I sighed.

"Daniel picked Jon and me up from school at three-thirty. I was in the backseat, Jon was in the front. We were headed to Jon's apartment and Daniel drove past the turn. We pulled up in front of a house that was for sale. Daniel hit Jon with this funky lookin' stun gun and when I tried to stop him, I got KO'd." I went back to looking at the coffee mug with a sigh.

"Do you remember the address of the house where you stopped?" Daniel asked. I narrowed my eyes at him. If he was playing some sort of game, I wasn't going to be a willing participant. I kept my mouth shut.

"Think she'd crack under torture?" My head snapped up at the comment. It was from the new guy.

"Jack, don't be an idiot." Daniel said with an exasperated sigh. The older man shrugged. I was about to tell this man how much of an idiot I thought he was when I suddenly wasn't in Kansas anymore.


	6. Chapter Six

"_**Well, I hoped you have a lousy evening."**_

"_**I did," Said Richard. "You wouldn't have liked it. There was a horse in the bathroom and you know you hate that sort of thing."**_

_**Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams**_

_**(&)**_

_**Jack**_

Okay, so the kid hadn't had the greatest day. She'd been kidnapped. She'd been knocked out. She'd been almost drowned in a duck pond. She'd had to deal with interrogation from Daniel. And it was too bad for her, but it didn't look like it was going to be over any time soon.

"Thor, buddy, I question your timing." I said. The little gray Asgard didn't seem to take offense, but then again, he also wasn't paying me too much attention. His buggy black eyes were fixed solely on the kid.

"I am sorry, O'Neill," Or then again, maybe he had heard me. It's hard to tell because facial expressions aren't big among the Asgard. "But I have questions for the girl." The girl in question said something that sounded suspiciously like French and fainted.

"Yeah, good luck with that." I said, watching her brother crouch next to her.

"She is not the one I would have imagined you would have befriended, O'Neill." Thor said, finally switching his gaze to me. I shrugged.

"You were thinking I was gonna go for the blonde model?" I muttered, speaking for the missing clone. I still didn't quite think of it as mine. That was a little too creepy.

"I was not speaking of hair color, O'Neill. The interaction between the girl and the clone is reminiscent of the behavior that I have seen exhibited by you and Major Carter." Thor said. I shot a sideways look at Carter who was looking anywhere but me, a tell tale flush burning across her cheeks. Leave it to a little bald alien to cut right to the chase.

"Um, hi," I looked over at Connor and his sister. Angel was sitting up on the floor, blinking rapidly. I guess the turn around time for fainting is different than for a zat blast. "Would someone tell me what the fucking hell is going on around here?" Her blue eyes moved over each of us in turn, finally landing squarely on Daniel.

"Oh, yeah, that's Carter to a T." I muttered, glancing at my blonde 2i/c. Carter's face flushed an even deeper shade of red, so I turned my attention back to the kid.

"Look, if someone doesn't start talking real soon, I'm gonna have a freak-out that makes my complaining in the interrogation room look like a sneezing fit." The short red-head snapped, struggling to her feet. She headed straight towards Daniel who took a few steps back. Teal'c intercepted her, sweeping her off her feet before she could do anything.

"Oh, this is so not cool, dude." Angel said, dangling about a foot off the floor, her legs kicking at empty air. Teal'c didn't say anything, but the corners of his mouth twitched and I knew he was amused.

"T." Teal'c glanced at me and then lowered her back to the floor. Angel adjusted the CSPD sweatshirt that hung below her knees and glared around the bridge.

"Then, she is not aware of the situation?" Thor asked. Even though he'd spoken to me, the alien kept his gaze on the kid. To her credit, she didn't faint this time.

"If I'm asking about it, then I'm clearly not aware of the situation, Dome-head." Angel snapped, hands on her hips. I almost laughed as Thor took a step back.

"Be nice." Connor intoned as if the words were permanently ingrained in his speech patterns.

"I will not be nice. I was kidnapped, I was punched, I was interrogated and now I'm talking to something that I've only seen in old _Star Trek_ episodes. Now, someone had better start talking or I'm gonna scream so loud they can hear me down on…" She paused a minute to look out the view-window. "Earth." She finished. The kid had spunk. Well, either that or she was just stupid.

"May I…" Thor asked, but a deadly look from the kid stopped him dead in his little tracks. I folded my arms across my chest and waited for the inevitable questions to start. The kid didn't disappoint.

"Where's Jon?" No one spoke, mainly because no one knew what to say, especially since saying anything would unveil the biggest kept secret in Earth's history. Besides, how do you tell a kid that her best friend is a clone who's been kidnapped by God knows who and could possibly be dead?

"Okay, let's try something simpler. Daniel, where am I?" Angel asked. Daniel shot me a look across the room. I shrugged. Lying to the kid at this point would have just been stupid because she'd have to have been blind to have missed being beamed up.

"Oh, about two miles up in the Earth's atmosphere aboard an Asgard spaceship." Daniel said, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking uncomfortable.

"Asgard? As in Norse mythology?" She sounded incredulous. I shot a sideways look at Carter. She was watching the teen with barely disguised curiosity.

"That would be them." Daniel replied. The teen stared at him intently before moving her attention over to Carter.

"Lady, why am I two miles up in the Earth's atmosphere aboard an Asgard spaceship?" Angel asked. Carter started to glance over at me, but the teen stopped her.

"And don't go looking to you boyfriend for help." This time I joined Carter in blushing. Luckily, Thor interrupted what could have been an even more embarrassing conversation.

"Because I have questions regarding your companion." Unimpressed blue eyes slid in Thor's direction. Daniel seated himself on the edge of a console and appeared to be much more relaxed now that the heat was off him. I glared at him and he grinned.

"I don't like you, so, shut up. Now, when you say 'my companion', I'm gonna assume you freaks are talking about Jon. You can ask me questions." Angel suddenly turned her attention to me. I tried to stutter out an excuse, but nothing came out.

"And I don't want to hear anything out of you." She said, directing the comment at her big brother who had stood with Davis near the hologram platform.

I had to hand it to Connor. According to his file, he'd raised Angel since their parents had died seven years ago. Seven years with the kid was a feat. I'd only been with her for ten minutes and I already wanted to kill her.

"Questions, right." I said, drawing it out so I could give my brain time to formulate a question that wouldn't set her off again.

"Uh, how long have you known, uh…" I glanced over at Carter who mouthed 'Jon' at me. "Uh, Jon?" I said. Angel glanced over at Carter, but turned her interest back to me.

"Um, about a year and a half." She scuffed the floor with her foot. I scrambled for another question.

"How much time do you spend together?" The kid's forehead furrowed. It looked like she was trying to think up a good lie. I straightened my posture and gave her my best 'Colonel' look. She sighed.

"I have a room at his apartment." Angel muttered, barely loud enough for me to hear it. Her big brother clearly did, though, by the way his mouth dropped open. I was confused. Had I changed that much when I was cloned? Because I could remember my high school years and I didn't co-exist peacefully or at all with bratty red-heads. As a matter of fact, I don't co-exist with bratty anyone.

"Oh, stop looking at me like that, Seth. I know where you spend your Saturday nights." Angel said. Connor rolled his eyes, but he flushed red. I already had another question ready by the time she turned back to me.

"Have you ever noticed anything strange about him?" I asked. She sighed heavily. I thought it was a good question.

"Like sci-fi weird or just teenage boy weird?" She asked, crossing her arms a little tighter across her chest.

"In general." I said, giving Carter another glance. She shrugged.

"He leaves his towels on the floor. He likes 80s hair metal. He can't dance. He never gets sick. He sometimes disappears on me in the middle of the night. And he has a strange fascination with astrology. Anything else?" I didn't like the way her eyes were starting to squint even though the light on the deck wasn't that bright. The inevitable headache from getting punched had to be running full-force.

"I do not believe that she knows anything crucial about your clone, O'Neill." Everyone froze at what sounded like a simple slip of the tongue, but I knew Thor. He'd made the mistake intentionally. The kid looked around as everyone seized up like statues. Then it registered on her face.

"Clone." Her gaze darted from person to person until it locked with mine. I didn't move, guessing that this was the view my clone sometimes woke up to in the morning. Only, probably less homicidal.

"He looks almost exactly like you." She whispered and for a minute I thought she was gonna faint again. Then a really, really angry look crossed her face and she moved.

"Oh, crap." Was the last thing I said before her fist hit me.


	7. Chapter Seven

_**Sam: Merrin, you're only eleven! Half the interesting things in my life didn't happen until I turned fifteen!  
Merrin: What kind of interesting things?  
Sam: Oh uh... just... stuff.**_

_**Stargate: SG1**_

_**(&)**_

_**Angel**_

Okay, so I probably shouldn't have hit the guy. Seth is always saying 'hit not unless you want someone else to beat the crap out of you.' But I had extenuating circumstances. My head was killing me, my lip hurt every time I talked and these people were jerking me around like a puppet.

I didn't even hit him as hard as I could have. The last guy I hit, some slob feeling me up at the movies, had gotten a broken nose. Before I could even throw a second punch, Murray or T or whatever the older man had called him had a hold of me again and I was suddenly dangling in midair for the second time that day.

I felt completely justified in throwing the punch. My best friend, the guy I trusted with my life had been lying to me. And the original copy was sprawled on his ass in front of me. The next time I saw Jon, I was going to kill him.

"You can put her down, Teal'c." The man said, and within seconds I was on the floor. I scowled at the big guy as he took a few steps back, sort of positioning himself in a bodyguard stance next to Daniel.

"Nice right hook." The guy mumbled, unsteadily climbing to his feet. I folded my arms across my chest to keep from taking another swing at him.

"Thanks. You taught me… I guess." I mumbled, still not sure what was going on. The word 'clone' had been used and this guy had the same color eyes as Jon. In the rare event of me putting two and two together, I was guessing this was Jon, Sr.

"Yeah, I guess." The guy had his hands in his pockets, eyeing me like Jon did when I yelled at him for scaring me by sneaking in at three in the morning. It was scary seeing so much of Jon in this man.

"So, uh, do you have a name? Or do I keep calling you Jon Senior?" I asked, not sure really what else to say.

"Uh, Jack. O'Neill. Colonel Jack O'Neill." As if as unsure as I was, he extended his hand towards me. I shook it. His grip was strong and calloused and was completely different from Jon's. The situation called for awkward and made up for it in spades.

"Carter." He called the blonde over. She was pretty and despite our different hair colors, we sort of looked like we could be sisters. I didn't miss the look she shot Jack or the one she got in return.

"Sam Carter." We shook. The silence afterwards was awkward. I stared at the floor, the ceiling, the alien, Daniel, anything but Jack. Then it got too much and I had to ask.

"Um…" He looked at me as if he was expecting me to ask him the answer to life, the universe and everything. I knew it already. It was 42. I read Douglas Adams, so I settled for a different question.

"Why'd ET clone you?"


	8. Chapter 8

_**The major difference between a thing that might go wrong and a thing that cannot possibly go wrong is that when a thing that cannot possibly go wrong goes wrong it usually turns out to be impossible to get at or repair.**_

_**Douglas Adams**_

_**(&)**_

_**Jon**_

I hate needles. And after two straight hours of being poked by them in several places, well, I just hated them that much more. I'd been removed from the tile room a few hours earlier and dropped unceremoniously onto the examining table of a room that looked suspiciously like one of the Isolation rooms back at the SGC.

Asking about Angel had gotten me bupkus. And by bupkus I mean, every time I asked something the tech who was taking blood samples had poked me a little harder. I finally stopped talking to save the remaining veins in my arms.

The guard who stood just inside the door of the small room kept the safety strap on his sidearm unfastened. He also hadn't moved or blinked in the last forty-five minutes. I was beginning to worry.

A swab poked the corner of my mouth and I dutifully opened. The tech removing my DNA was young, skittish, and had apparently had a run in with the Pimple Fairy. If he poked me again, I was going to say something about it.

The door to the room opened and I looked up, almost biting the swab in half. I spit it out with a disgusted sigh as Daniel stepped into the room. He wore jeans and a pink t-shirt that said 'Bow to the Princess,' but it was Daniel. I think.

"Almost done, Scott?" He asked and the tech nervously nodded, sliding the swab I'd just spit out into a plastic container. He gathered up all his samples and scurried out of the room, followed by the guard who didn't scurry. I watched the door shut with a sigh and then turned my attention back to Daniel.

"So, I finally get to meet Jack O'Neill. Face to face. Funny, you're…" I waited for him to say shorter. Everyone says shorter. "blonder than I would have thought." I arched an eyebrow. Okay, that one was new. Luckily, I had a comeback all prepared.

"And you're wearing a pink shirt. Funny, I always pegged you for a cool colors person." Daniel laughed. Granted, it was slightly more maniacal than usual, but he laughed. I chose to take it as a good sign.

"I like pink." He said, taking a few steps closer. I backed up as far as I could do without falling off the table and breaking my neck. Daniel's hand reached under his shirt for a moment and then reappeared with my least favorite piece of technology in the whole world as a woman appeared in his place. She was definintely someone who could actually wear the pink t-shirt and not look confused about her gender. She looked like she was in her mid-thirties with long blonde hair, cold blue eyes and face that could have been attractive had she not been so obviously crazy.

"Lisa Burrows. Nice to meet you, Colonel." I would have shaken her hand, but mine were currently hiding in my pockets so I didn't have to risk touching her.

"I'd say likewise, but I'd be lying." Her smile was cold and polite in response to my quip. Even if it was true. She settled her own hands in her pockets and stared at me, rocking up and down on her feet.

"Do you know why you're here?" A dozen possibilities raced through my mind, including one that involved a cow, but I couldn't come up with one that wouldn't get me slapped, so I stayed silent. Burrows eyed me for a little while before she spoke.

"The NID, Colonel," I sighed. Of course it was the NID. Who else would it be? The NID filled just about every requirement for bad guys in the United States.

"Wanted you first, but we decided that you're of much more use to us." That comment stopped me dead in my tracks. To my knowledge, the NID were THE group to deal with when it came to shadow groups. Another NID was just an aneurysm waiting to happen, but apparently, Burrows wasn't finished.

"And we have a proposal for you."


	9. Chapter 9

**_Barbara: What is this obsession with food?  
Helena: You try fighting the forces of evil when your blood sugar's low._**

_**-Birds of Prey **_

_**(&)**_

_**Jack**_

Two hours. It took two hours of outrage, complicated explanations that the kid understood a little too easily for my comfort, and the Asgard version of coffee, which wired the kid to the point of being a cocaine addict.

Actually, the amount of time had surprised me. I'd been expecting her to keep fainting or something. But it had only taken two hours to let a fifteen year old in on the biggest secret in the United States. Five minutes and she had the gist of it and Carter had spent the rest of the time patiently answering every question the kid had and she had a lot of them.

Now, she sat away from the rest of the group, staring out at Earth, knees drawn to her chest, chin balanced on her forearms. She looked like a little black lump in the oversized sweatshirt. Truth be told, I felt bad for her. Finding out your best friend is a clone and your entire friendship is based on circumstances that never actually happened was probably a shock.

The only sound in the room was the occasional beep from a piece of equipment and the soft breathing of people who were trying to figure everything out. I leaned closer to Daniel who was watching Angel with as much concern as her big brother was.

"She's not gonna hit me again, is she?" I asked. Daniel gave me a nasty look.

"Hey, it's my nose on the line here." I protested. Daniel folded his arms across his chest and looked back at Angel who was still staring at the planet below us.

"No, I don't think she's gonna hit you again." He said. I hoped he was right. Angel looked over at us, eyeing me in particular and then looked down at her feet.

"Or maybe she is." I snapped my gaze back to Daniel. He was looking at Angel with far less concern and far more amusement. I almost hit him.

"So…" Connor's voice broke the awkward silence. The blue-eyed glare that Angel sent her big brother sent his vocal chords to scurry into hiding. We all sat in silence for another ten minutes before she stood up, brushing herself.

"Can we go home now?" She asked, shifting that Carter-esque gaze to me. I looked at Thor. He moved to one of the consoles and began moving crystals.

"I will keep you appraised of any changes in the situation." Ten seconds later, I was standing in an unfamiliar living room. Picking herself up off the floor, Angel took one look around, muttered something about changing and disappeared down a nearby hallway. Another look around confirmed my suspicions and realized that it was just Angel and I and from the looks of it, we were in the clone's apartment.

Looking around, I found a clash of cultures and sexes vying for attention in the room. Suede over-stuffed furniture, colorful rugs on the hardwood floors, warm colors on the walls. Textbooks, clothes, dishes and other everyday items littered the room and I could see the mess continued into the kitchen. It looked like a woman had decorated and a man had messed it up.

Turning around, I found myself confronted with a picture covered mantel. There were pictures of the clone with his arms around a couple of cheerleaders, of Angel in a football uniform, Angel and her big brother, the clone and Angel engaged in some tussle on the floor of what looked like a bar, and… Charlie. Half-hidden behind a picture of a cheerleader grinning broadly over the top of her pom-poms sat a picture of Charlie. I recognized it. Sarah had snapped the picture at his first t-ball game. His uniform was covered in sno-cone juice and dirt, and he was grinning at the camera with the care-free grin of a five year old.

My cell-phone rang, startling me out of my sudden trance and I fumbled for it, almost dropping it twice before I turned it on and held it to my ear. It was Carter.

"Sir, where are you?" She sounded concerned. I managed to reply, telling her that we were at Jon's apartment and that we were fine and that we'd be staying at the clone's apartment for a while. I hung up and picked up the picture.

"He said Charlie died a few years ago." I turned around, still holding the picture. Angel wore jeans, a tank-top, combat boots and a sad expression.

"Yeah." I said, trying to keep my emotions out of my voice. She cocked her head to the side, watching me.

"He also said Charlie was playing with his gun." I nodded, not trusting my voice to speak. She must have seen something on my face because she moved closer.

"He was your son, wasn't he?" I nodded again. She seemed to consider the new info for a moment before she lunged.

I suddenly found myself wrapped up in 130 pounds of teenage comfort. She clearly needed the contact more than I did, so I let her just hold onto me. We stood like that for a few moments before I pulled away, patting her awkwardly on the back.

"You know, you two're a lot alive, but very different." She said as I replaced the picture and looked for somewhere to sit.

"Oh." She said and proceeded to push a pile of teenager debris off one of the chairs, making herself a space on the couch.

"How are we alike?" I asked, dropping into the chair, sighing as my body finally relaxed.

"You have some of the same facial expressions. Same smile. You talk the same. Very sarcastic." As she spoke, Angel seemed to catch sight of something on the other end of the couch and made a face as she kicked at it.

"What?" I asked.

"Physics project." She explained as she pulled a large notebook out of the mess and tossed it on top of a pile of Popular Mechanics magazines that leaned haphazardly against the couch.

"Physics?" I tried to keep the surprise out of my voice. Angel didn't seem to sense it.

"Jon talked me into it and now I'm stuck in a class that I hate, doing projects that I don't understand." With a sigh, she dumped the notebook over the back of the couch.

"Is he any good at it?" I asked, because personally, science had never been one of my strong points in school. Angel shrugged.

"He's the teacher's assistant." She said. I nodded and silence ensued. We were both comfortable to just sit there in silence, both lost in our own thoughts. A tiny mechanized version of 'Sweet Home Alabama,' started playing from somewhere.

With a curse, Angel leaped for a pile of clothes on one of the other chairs, tossing aside sweatshirts and t-shirts and jeans with a single-mindedness that was almost frightening. She finally discovered the phone and flicked it open, raising it to her ear.

"Hi, you've reached Jon's phone. This is not Jon. How may I help you? Oh, hi, Max. No. He's not here right now." I watched her talk, half slung over the arm-chair, a pair of boxers draped across her shoulder.

"Yeah, I had a great time the other night. Again? Um…" She shot me a panicked look. I shrugged, having no idea what was going on. Wrinkling her nose, she turned her attention back to the cold fireplace.

"Next week. Uh, okay. Monday at 6:00. Okay. No, you can pick me up at Jon's. Uh-huh. Okay, bye." She hung up with a grunt of disgust. I watched her mumble something to herself as she dropped the phone and flopped back onto the couch. She flopped a lot.

"Trouble?" I asked, not really wanting an answer.

"You ever had a teenage boy who likes Broadway, completely enamored with you?" She asked as if I had ever actually had a teenage boy who likes Broadway completely enamored with me.

"Uh, no." I said. Angel laughed.

"Yeah, well, it's no picnic. Do you want something to eat? I've got the munchies." I shook my head and she vanished, picking her way around piles of clothing and books.

"Damn him!" She yelled a few minutes later from the kitchen. "He ate my Cheetohs!"

I wisely stayed out of it.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Trance: I am so sick of this, you two, with your violence and your threats and your shooting**_

_**stuff. Neither of you get it, do you? There isn't enough love in the universe as it is, and you're**_

_**both just helping to kill off what's left of it. So, shape up, because if you don't show each other**_

_**a little peace, love and understanding, I'm gonna kill you both.**_

_**Andromeda**_

_**(&)**_

_**Daniel**_

Jack looked like he wanted to kill me. Well, he was certainly stalking towards me like he wanted to kill me. I looked out into the living room. Angel was curled up on the couch, wrapped around a giant bag of pretzels, completely dead to the world. I wasn't exactly sure what had transpired between the two of them, but judging by the look on Jack's face, it hadn't been very good.

"Someone followed me here." I blurted out before Jack could get his hands around my neck. He stopped, looking torn between curiosity and murderous rage. And luckily for me, it wasn't a lie.

Caustiously, I stepped around him, tensing when he turned to follow me to the window. I pointed at the street below.

"There. The car right behind the one under the street lamp." Jack peered out into the night. I took a step back as he squinted against the darkness.

"There's no one there." It was my turn to be confused as I peered over Jack's shoulder. It was true. The car that had carefully followed me across town, always hanging back three car lengths was empty. I felt torn between sheepish and concerned. Then someone knocked on the door and concerned won out. Jack and I exchanged glances. Angel stirred on the couch, her eyes slowly opening.

"Jon?" She mumbled, knocking the bag of pretzels to the floor. Jack all but leaped for the couch, clamping a hand across her mouth. Her eyes shot open and she started to back away, but Jack held up a finger in a shooshing motion. Seeming to understand, Angel rolled off the couch landing on her feet next to Jack.

I moved to the door, completely confident in Jack's ability to shoot someone if my life was in danger. I was slightly concerned he'd let someone shoot me first.

"Dr. Jackson?" A man's voice drifted through the door. I recognized the voice and it wasn't a bad guy voice.

"Agent Barrett?" I asked, checking the peep-hole. Agent Malcolm Barrett stood outside Jon's apartment, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket. He looked uncomfortable in the jeans and blue sweater he wore. Considering that he spent eighty-five percent of his time in a suit, I could understand the expression on his face.

"It's Agent Barrett." I said, placing my hand on the doorknob to answer it.

"Danny." Jack hissed. I turned with a scowl which was for the irritating nickname.

"What?" He performed a gesture that suggested mental laxness on my part. I returned it.

"Is that really Agent Barrett?" Jack growled. I paused. Having had up close and personal experience with the alien technology that could cast a tangible hologram, it was a wonder that I wasn't paranoid about anyone who came within ten feet of my person.

"Ask him a question." Jack whispered. Angel kept looking back and forth between the two of us like we were nuts. In a way, I suppose we were.

"Like what?" I asked, hand still resting on the doorknob.

"Something only Barrett would know." Jack said, pushing Angel back when she started to creep forward onto the couch. I turned back to the door.

"Uh, Agent Barrett, where's your partner?" I asked. Through the peep-hole, Barrett's face screwed up in a frown.

"What partner?" He asked, staring at the door like I was crazy. I shrugged at Jack. Then a thought hit me and I mouthed 'Does he even have a partner?' Jack muttered one of the Abydonian curses I'd taught him, looking like he wanted to strangle me right then and there.

"You know… S-Sam." I had no idea what I was doing. This was why I decrypted ancient languages, I read cartouches, and I cleaned dirt off little pieces of pottery that no one gave a damn about. I didn't question potential bad guys.

"Uh, Sam works with you, Dr. Jackson. Are you okay?" I was beginning to wonder the same thing myself. I turned back to Jack. He was beating his head against the couch. I turned back to the door.

"Uh, this is gonna sound weird, but can you take your shirt off?" I asked. Out in the hall, Barrett's jaw dropped. He waited, apparently for me to tell him it was a joke. When I wasn't forthcoming with a reply, his eyes widened.

"You're serious, aren't you?" I shrugged, realized he couldn't see that and said 'yes.' He looked up and down the hall and then back at the door. Shrugging out of his jacket, he peeled off the sweater. The guy obviously worked out.

"Can you turn around?" I asked. With a heavy sigh, Barrett turned around just as Jon's across-the-hall neighbor, Mr. Torrance opened his door, brandishing a frying pan like a club. I watched a flush creep across Barrett's neck and into his hairline. The two men just stood there staring at each other.

"He's clean." I whispered, not having seen any alien device.

"You guys are nuts. Completely, psychotically, out of your freaking minds, nuts." Angel whispered, climbing to her feet. Jack hauled her back down.

"What! I'm not the one asking men to strip in the middle of the hallway because I have paranoid, the-government-is-using-alien-technology-to-get-me fantasies." She growled, shaking Jack's hand off.

"Are you always this much of a pain in the ass?" Jack snapped, forgetting his quiet face. I scrubbed a hand across my face, figuring this was going to take a while.

"Yes, apparently, I learned it from you!" Angel shouted. Barrett knocked on the door again. I glanced out the peep-hole again. Barrett had re-donned his shirt and was now all but pressed against the door. Mr. Torrance still stood behind him, although now he was holding a frying pan.

I put my hand on the doorknob again, deciding that opening the door would either stop the fight or increase it. Either way worked for me. I opened the door and grabbed Barrett by the shoulder, hauling him backwards through the door.

"Have a nice night, Mr. Torrance." I flashed a smile at the startled man and shut the door, flicking t he deadbolt. Barrett's sudden entrance to the apartment didn't even cause a lull in the argument that was now raging full bore.

"Don't take this personally or anything." I said and proceeded to pat him down. He was clean, except for the standard issue pistol in his jacket pocket.

"If I wasn't afraid that you'd shoot me, I'd kick you." Angel bellowed. Barrett followed me into the living room, eyeing the mess around him like he expected Soviet agents to come leaping out at him from the pile of unfolded towels on the dining room table.

"Well, you know what! Go right ahead." Jack yelled back. Clearly he hadn't been expecting Angel to actually kick him. I winced as her boot came in solid contact with his leg. Jack muttered a pretty inventive curse word and sank onto the couch.

"Okay, separate corners." I said, stepping in before Angel decided to re-apply her boot to his ribcage. When she wouldn't move, a little nudge to the shoulder sent Angel stomping in the direction of her room. A few seconds later the door slammed with enough force to register on the Richter scale.

"Nice kid." Barrett said, leaning against one of the easy chairs. Jack chose that moment to notice he was there.

"You let him in?" I rolled my eyes as Jack sized up the other man, clearly expecting him to do something violent at any moment.

"I patted him down. And what was that? I thought you two were friends." I asked. Jack glared at me.

"She hugged me. Once. That was it. Up until she started calling me crazy, we were civil." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Barrett drop into the easy chair looking back and forth between Jack and I like it was a Wimbledon tennis match.

"Civil is not a word that I would use to describe you, Jack." I said. He glared some more. The door slammed again startling all of us. Angel came back into the living room, this time wearing a pair of black cargo pants, a long-sleeved Underarmor shirt and her combat boots, a black leather jacket slung across one arm.

"And where do you think you're going?" I asked, wishing I was back in my lab and that Jon wasn't missing. And that I didn't sound like my foster mother when she caught me trying to sneak out of the house on room cleaning day.

"Out." One word, a whole lot of attitude. Angel started to move towards the door, but I stepped in her way.

"Daniel." I didn't miss the warning in her voice as she tried to side-step me. I followed her. We danced like that for a few more times before she threw her hands in the air, surprising me enough that I took a step back in case she was going to hit me and darted around me.

Leaping out of the chair, Barrett caught her around the waist, swinging her back towards me.

"No one else is doing anything!" Angel shouted and promptly burst into tears, throwing herself at me. I caught her out of instinct, my arms wrapping around her shoulders.

Suddenly, three men who had all looked down the barrel of a loaded gun without fear were looking down the loaded barrel of a nearly hysterical teenage girl in terror. Jack and Barrett slowly backed away.

"Uh, it'll be okay." I said, awkwardly patting her on the back. An even bigger sob forced it's way out of her mouth and I winced.

"Y'all don't have a whole lot of experience with weepin' women, do ya?" We all turned towards the door. During the uproar, someone new had joined our soap opera. Someone with a gun. And he was smiling.


	11. Chapter 11

Jack Sr.'s POV:

Her tears certainly cleared up really fast only to be replaced with a sort of fast acting anger. I wasn't sure exactly what I thought I was doing stepping in front of her like that, but it was clearly the wrong option as she elbowed me in the side as she peeked her head around me.

"Tom," Angel said, squirming past me who tried my best to keep her out of the line of fire. "what have I told you about breaking into my apartment?" The man who was still grinning like he'd just won the lottery, grinned even wider.

"Um, Angel." She turned to me, absolutely no indication of tears evident on her face.

"Explanation, please." I had tucked my gun away and was trying to look normal. Or whatever normal was for me, hell, even I wasn't sure.

"This is Officer Tom Branch from CSPD. He's my Big Brother in that stupid mentoring program." Tom snaked a long bronze-colored arm out and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her forward into a bear-hug.

"Stupid program?" Angel got a noogie for her descriptive prowess.

"I thought you already had a big brother." I said and Angel peered at me out from under a mop of hair, courtesy of Tom.

"I do. This one makes sure I don't do something stupid like burn the house down when my other brother is away on his 'business trips,' you know." I inwardly winced at the way she emphasized business trips.

"Yeah, well, this big brother wants to know why you were in the station earlier this evening." Daniel and I both started stammering out half-finished excuses.

"I was mugged in the park. I was out doing some sketches for art class and a couple of teenage boys mugged me." The way that she said this, with a completely straight face made me slightly scared and extremely glad that she was on our side.

"Just checking." Tom said, ruffling her hair again. "That's what one of the uni's told me." Angel elbowed him in the gut.

"Don't trust me?" She asked. I wasn't sure if she was flirting with him or if I'd been out of the dating game so long I was mistaking innocent dialogue for romantic intent.

"Not at all." She stuck out her tongue. We all stood there in awkward silence until Angel broke it with the thud of her forehead against the heel of her hand. This drew her into the center of attention.

"Duh. Tom, this is Daniel, Jack and Malcolm. Jack and Jon are cousins and Daniel and Mal are old friends of the family." Damn, was this girl CIA trained or something? I couldn't even lie like that on my best day.

"Nice to meet you." There was a brief handshaking session before Tom reasserted his grip on Angel.

"Gotta go, kid. Try and behave." He kissed her on the top of the head and left, nodding at each of us. My adrenaline finally stopped pumping.

"You have to teach me to lie like that." Malcolm said. None of us were reassure by her less than sane grin.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Cordelia_****_: The demon did that to you?  
_****_Wesley Wyndam-Pryce_****_: No, one of the power walkers. Apparently, she thought I was disrespecting its cultural heritage by killing it._**

_**Angel**_

_**(&)**_

_**Daniel**_

If the two of them could have seen how alike they were, they probably would have taken turns beating the crap out of me for mentioning it. Angel and Jack stood in the middle of the living room, mirroring each other's posture, trying to glare each other down. Barrett had given up trying to figure out what was going on and was sitting on the couch, eating pretzels.

"He's my best friend." Angel suddenly snapped and instinctively Jack took a step back, preparing for a physical attack.

"Where'd that come from?" He asked. I watched this exchange as silently as I could since half of me wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it al and the other half was screaming 'RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY! DANGER, WILL ROBINSON! DANGER, WILL ROBINSON!'

"Well, he is." Angel muttered, arms folded across her chest. I sensed she was headed into pout mode. It suddenly reminded me that this young woman who frequently argued about history and politics with me was still just a high school student. At times, she acted so grown up you forgot you were talking to a teenager and other times, well, she reminded you of those kids who run screaming at the tops of their lungs through the grocery story because their mother wouldn't let them get Sugar-Coated Sugar Balls.

"And your point is?" Jack asked, smirking down at her. Angel's eyes suddenly gleamed dangerously. I started to speak up and then shut my mouth. Jack was just going to have to find out the hard way just like everyone else had.

"You're taking me with you." Angel said it with so much determination, I don't think it hit Jack fully for a few minutes. Then his gaze narrowed and slid sideways to me. I shrugged.

"Taking you where?" He asked, tone suspicious. Angel's eyes narrowed to match his and again, they looked so similar it was scary.

"I know you're going to look for Jon and I'm going with you." Jack's expression went from smug to panicked in under three seconds.

"Whoa, kid…" Angel interrupted him before he could tell her 'no.'

"And don't say it's a national security thing. I know everything and if you don't take me with you, I'll call CNN." Something about the way she was dressed in all black with her crazy red hair sticking out at strange angles made this statement a little more believable.

"You wouldn't." Jack growled, straightening his posture in an attempt to loom over her, which really wasn't hard to do seeing as how if Angel had been stretched on the rack, she'd still have only been five foot two.

"Oh, really?" I could have told Jack that daring Angel was like waving a red flag in front of a bull. Not a good idea, but he had to learn. Barrett interrupted their Mexican standoff.

"Why don't we just take her with us?" Jack switched his murderous gaze to the other man. Wisely, I stayed out of it.

"She's a security risk, right? And if the kidnappers got close enough to her to kidnap the clone in the first place, what's going to stop them from coming back for her?" Jack looked like he was trying to decide whether to choke Barrett or shoot him.

"Hey, when did I go from a paranoid teenager to a security risk?" Angel piped up, poking a finger into Jack's chest. He looked down at the attacking appendage. By now, I was trying desperately not to grin like a maniac. Despite my best efforts, I could feel my insane smile trying to spread across my face.

"You've _always_ been a security risk." Jack said, brushing the finger away. Angel took this as an invitation and kicked him in the shin. Again.

"Sonuvabitch!" Jack yelped and sank onto the couch next to Barrett.

"Is that all he taught you to do?" I interrupted and Angel turned her gaze on me, eyes inquisitive.

"Kick people in the shins?" I asked. She shrugged.

"I'm five foot. I aim for what I can reach. And stop trying to get me off subject." I held up my hands in the patented 'don't-kill-me' pose.

"There never was a subject. Base security will be here in twenty minutes and you'll stay with them." Jack said, using his colonel-giving-an-order voice. With a smile that was truly frightening, Angel snatched a cell-phone off the floor and flipped it open.

"Don't even think about it." Jack said. This I was used to. Angel had a stubborn, pain-in-the-ass streak that was about four miles wide. I had a feeling Jack was going to loose this argument. Judging by the look on his face, he knew it too.

"Think about what?" She said as she hit a few buttons on the phone and held it up to her ear.

"Information? Yeah, hi, I'd like the number to Garreth Communication." Jack looked to me for support. I shook my head because personally, I thought it would have been safer for Angel to come with us. She wouldn't have to be involved in all the Black-Ops stuff. She could keep the car safe.

"Put the phone down." I watched Jack's muscles tense as he waited for her to get close enough to jump her. I had the distinct feeling that this was going to end in a wrestling match. Either that, or Angel was gonna lock herself in the bathroom.

"Yes, you can connect us." Jack lunged for her and Angel hopped over the coffee table, skittering out of his reach. She dodged around another grab and danced around me and the kitchen table.

"Hi, can you connect me to one of your investigative reports?" Angel asked, neatly ducking under a grab that came from Barrett and moved towards the entrance way to the hall.

For a second, I considered the options between an angry Jack and an angry Angel and decided I could deal with the teenager being made at me better than if it was Jack. Moving in front of her, I blocked off her escape and grabbed her around the waist. She weighed about as much as a bag of potatoes as I manhandled her off the floor. Grabbing the phone out of her flailing hand, I muttered something about a wrong number and hung up.

"Daniel." She howled, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. I had a fairly good idea about why she was jumping from mood to mood like a bi-polar schizophrenic, but knew if I voiced this opinion, that _my _shins would be the ones in pain.

"Jack, we have to take her with us." I grunted, tightening my grip a little more and tossing him the phone. Angel kicked and flailed for a little before going limp in my grasp.

"Daniel, have you completely lost it?" Jack snapped, pulling the battery pack out of the phone and shoving it into his pocket. Angel protested, but I nudged her into silence.

"No, Jack, I haven't lost my mind. Barrett's right. What's going to stop the kidnappers from coming after her again? What if they try and use her against Jon?" I said, earning another squirm fest from Angel.

"How about the fact that they weren't after her in the first place? They were after the clone." Jack said. Angel squirmed again, but remained silent.

"Well, what if they come back for her?" Barrett put his two cents in and then quickly yanked them back out as Jack glared at him.

"I'll sit in the car. I won't say a word. Please?" This time she was being sincere and even Jack seemed to be able to tell. His scowl dissipated into a resigned expression.

"Fine. But you will stay in the car anywhere we go. If you attempt to get out of the car, I'll give the SF's permission to taser you." I set Angel down, not missing the giant grin on her face.

"Can I take my backpack?" She asked, still grinning.

"Why?" Jack eyed her suspiciously. Of course, with Angel he had good cause.

"Well, if I'm sitting in the car, I'm gonna do homework. Kidnappings aren't exactly school sanctioned excuses for late work." Jack nodded reluctantly and Angel raced off to her room. He turned to me with a questioning look.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" He asked. I nodded. That was really all I could say and since I really didn't say anything, we were really in trouble.

Twenty minutes later, after putting a call into Sam to let her know what was going on and Jack had made me check Angel for any electronic devices that could be used for outside contact, we were all jammed into a black SUV with three security officers.

Angel sat packed between Sgt. Locke and Lt. Topry in the middle seat, her red head moving back and forth as she looked from man to man. Jack sat in the front seat, glaring at her through the rearview mirror.

"So…" Angel said, looking from stone-faced marine to stone-faced marine.

"Been doing this long?" Neither man blinked or even acknowledged her. Angel craned her neck around to look at me.

"Can I have my I-pod?" I caught Jack's eye through the mirror. He shrugged. I handed it over.

"Thanks." Angel settled back into her seat, pushing the ear-phones into her ears, ignoring the black looks she was getting from Jack. Silence reigned for a moment before I heard the music leaking out of the headphones. Locke and Topry exchanged glances over the top of her head when it became evident that she was listening to Guns'n'Roses.

"Don't say a word. Maybe she'll blow her eardrums or something." Jack muttered, staring straight ahead, his voice carrying to the back of the SUV.

Three SF's, one NID agent and me, tried not to laugh as Angel flipped him off.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Hammond: You're suggesting Osiris is here on Earth manipulating Dr. Jackson's dreams?  
_**

**_Sam: We think it's possible, sir.  
_**

**_Jack: Kinky._**

_**Stargate: SG1**_

_**(&)**_

_**Jon**_

When the crazy lady in the pink shirt had said she had a proposal for me, I'd been thinking something along the lines of 'you do _this _for us or we slice you open and use you as the example in Anatomy class.'

I hadn't been expecting that she told me which, loosely paraphrased was 'you do _this _for us or we slice your girlfriend open and use _her _ass the example in Anatomy class.' It took me a minute to figure out they were talking about Angel and while I was sure that Angel was just as fascinating on the inside as she was on the outside, I didn't really want her to be used as a science project. That was when I'd lost my temper.

Looking back on it in retrospect, I probably shouldn't have hit the lady. The way my mother had raised me the 'always play nice with the girls' side had a problem with it when I bloodied her nose, but my military side was thinking ' you should have hit her harder, ya pansy-ass.' I was inclined to go with the military side.

And then the guards had come to her rescue and dragged me out, their batons or whatever they used in lieu of the wooden sticks, i.e. fists, boots, knees, occasionally '_slipping_' onto the back of my head. I ended up not being too sorry about hitting her.

Twenty minutes later, I found myself locked in a room that could have easily doubled as a hotel suite at the Hilton. I kicked the door to test it, not surprised to find it locked. A guard stuck his head in and told me to stop it or he'd thump me again. My following smart-ass remark earned me what may or may not have been a concussion. Or at least what felt like one.

After it calmed down, I climbed onto the massive four-poster bed and sat back against the headboard, holding a hand against the goose-egg that was rapidly forming against the back of my head. I'd always been told that if you have a concussion, you're not supposed to sleep, but I passed out. What happened next couldn't have been anything other than a dream. At least I was hoping it was a dream:

"Jon." Someone was shaking me and none to gently. My brain bounced around in my skull as the hand on my shoulder shook me even harder. I felt my fillings start to shake loose as it intensified.

"Jonathan Andrew Hammond, if you don't get up right now, I'm going into the kitchen, getting an ice-cube and putting it down your boxers." That jolted me awake. I opened my eyes. Angel's face hovered a few centimeters away from mine. I tried to backpedal and found myself already pressed against the headboard. I was still in the hotel suite prison room.

" 'Bout time." She drawled, smiling at me. I looked down. Angel was lying on her side. In bed. Next to me. I looked up at her face and then did a double-take back down at the two of us.

Angel and I were in bed. TOGETHER. I scrambled away so quickly that I fell onto the floor, narrowly missing cracking my head open on the night stand. As I lay on my back cursing the impetuousness of my actions, Angel's face appeared over the edge of the bed, one eyebrow arched.

"Nice way to say good morning to your girl." She said, eyeing me. The eyeing made me realize that I was wearing only boxers and I scrambled for something to hold in front of my slightly underdeveloped chest. It wasn't something I was proud of. The only thing my groping hand found was a large pillow that had fallen off the bed in my scramble. I held it in front of me, still staring at Angel in shock.

"Why are you looking at me like I'm something out of the _Twilight Zone_?" She asked, flopping onto her stomach, staring down at me. It was then that I realized that she was wearing my shirt. My Aerowing's jersey to be more specific and that it had slipped off one bare shoulder, revealing the black lacey strap of a bra.

"Why are you wearing my jersey?" Angel raised up on her elbows and looked down at the shirt, offering me a straight shot down the neck. I swallowed and looked away.

"Uh, because I always do?" She said, settling back onto her stomach, eyebrows crawling up her forehead. I was starting to get the impression that something was really hinky here and that it had a lot to do with the hit I'd taken a few minutes earlier.

"Jon, you're creeping me out." She said, concern flickering in her blue eyes as she looked down at me.

"Who are you?" I asked, knowing full well the only way that the real Angel would have been in the same bed as me was if we were freezing to death and huddling together to retain body heat was our only option to stay alive. I looked around and didn't see any penguins. Of course, there was always the chance that I was hallucinating and they'd show up later.

"Uh, I'm the girl you've been sleeping with for the last ten months." She said, flicking a red curl off her face. My jaw hit the floor and then I recovered with a stammer.

"But you… I mean, we never… we haven't… you don't even like… what the _hell_?" Angel sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, putting my eyes at knee level with her. I discovered that she had also jacked the pair of Superman boxers that Daniel had given to me in a misguided attempt to cheer me up one day.

"That's not what you said last night." She blinked innocently down at me, more hair falling out of the loose ponytail that she wore it in. I was struck by the sudden change from innocent Angel to sex-kitten Angel. Maybe I'd been hit harder than I thought.

"Yeah, see here's the thing. You're my best friend. We've _never_ slept together. I don't think it's even come up in conversation." I said, backing away as she slid off the bed and landed on her rump in front of me.

"Oh, yes it has." Angel said, nodding her head. I squinted at her, still not sure what was going on.

"Remember that time we got drunk at Gary's? We talked about being friends with benefits." I squinted again, vaguely recalling lots of whiskey, a failed History test and Angel falling asleep on me in a booth somewhere in the back of a dimly lit bar.

"But that was with Angel. You're not Angel." I said, loosening my grip on the pillow just a little.

"Finally. Now, you're getting it." It was my turn to arch an eyebrow as the woman in front of me changed. The Aerowing jersey and Superman shorts disappeared and a pair of jeans and a James Bond t-shirt appeared in their place.

"What? That I'm hallucinating because some moron couldn't resist the urge to smack me a couple times?" I said, not missing the fact that the Bond t-shirt was white and her bra… wasn't.

"No, that I'm _your _subconscious, idiot." Angel said. That shocked me into silence for a few minutes. Then I figured out that's why she'd come on with the flirty act at first.

"So, uh, what? You're my secret longings manifesting themselves into the one person I can never be with?" I asked, spouting off something I thought sounded psychological. Angel smiled, stretching one leg out in front of her.

"Something like that." She reached up and let her hair loose. I let go of the pillow and scrubbed a hand across my face.

"So, what? I'm madly in love with Angel?" I asked, which was kind of weird because I'd just asked myself if I was madly in love with Angel.

"Exactly." That caught me off guard and I choked on my own air supply. When I could finally talk again, it was a barely audible 'excuse me?'

"You love me. Do I need to repeat it?" Angel was combing her fingers through her hair, head cocked to the side as she regarded me. For a crazy minute, I wanted to reach out and run my fingers through the red strands. I refrained because she was after all just an illusion.

"Look, I don't know where you got your information." That got me a wry look. "But, I don't love Angel. At least not in the way, you're thinking." I said. She scowled at me and some of her hair fell forward over her eyes.

"What do you think about first thing in the morning?" Angel asked, wrapping her arms around one bent knee.

"Depends on how much I had to drink the night before." I shot back. The scowl came back and I sighed.

"She's sleeps right next door to me. How can I not think about her?" I asked, holding my hands out in a 'so sue me' gesture.

"What do you think about during Auto Mechanics?" My subconscious challenged.

"Uh, not burning myself with the welding torch?" I said, well aware that I was arguing with myself.

"Try again, buddy. You almost burned a hole through the door panel the other day when she came up to the shop to talk to your teacher." I winced, mostly from getting caught in a lie.

"That was once." I defended myself. Subconscious Angel arched an eyebrow, pulling off a Teal'c face perfectly.

"And PE yesterday? What exactly what was it that ran through your mind when you saw her lying on the gym floor and she looked like she was dead?" A lump formed instantly in my throat as I recalled the image of Angel sprawled out across the gym floor, eyes closed, body limp.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Subconscious Angel said, tone suddenly gentle. I decided to give it another try.

"I don't love you." I said, pulling at the edge of the pillow case.

"Oh, get over it." The sharp edge in Subconscious Angel's voice caught me by surprise. "I'm your subconscious. If you didn't love Angel, I'd be talking to you looking like Carter."

"I don't love Carter either." I said. One delicate eyebrow arched again. Apparently my subconscious had been taking lessons from Teal'c when I wasn't paying attention.

"Okay, so maybe I was attracted to Carter." I said.

"Attracted? You've been drooling over Carter ever since the first time you met her. When you went 'kid', you realized you'd never get her. Then Angel walked into our life and you started thinking maybe there was hope for you yet in the romance department." Now, I was just plain creeped out. My subconscious obviously knew things.

"Look, just admit you're in love with me and I'll let you go back to being unconscious." She said. I sighed, giving it one last ditch attempt.

"Maybe like a sister." I said, not looking at the apparition. Angel snorted.

"Listen, buddy unless you have dreams about kissing your sister, you love me. And if you do have dreams about kissing your sister, well, that's just wrong and you need professional help." I glared at her.

"So, what do you want from me?" I asked.

"I want you to stop lying to yourself. Trust me, you'll feel much better." She said. I'd just about had it with myself.

"Fine. You wanna hear it? I love Angel. Happy? She's beautiful and smart and funny and perfect in every single way. And I love her. Is that good enough?" I snapped.

"That's nice to know." My eyes flew open and I found myself lying on the bed of my prison room. The crazy lady in the pink shirt stood next to me, hands on her hips, a thoughtful expression on her face. I rolled onto my side, showing her my back.

"Go away." I muttered. She laughed, sounding kind of nasal. I rolled onto my back again and gave her another look. Aside from the white things shoved up her nose, she looked like the perfect picture of total insanity.

"Seriously, go away." I said and rolled back over.

"Whatever you want, Colonel. Just think about what I said." I listened to 'Psycho Sally' leave and then flopped onto my back, staring up at the canopy above my head. Now, I had stuff to think about.

Crap.


	14. Chapter 14

_**Prior: It makes no difference what you do to me, but know this. The Ori are all-seeing. They are already aware of this affront to their eminence, and shall strike down those who dare to defy them.  
**_

_**Mitchell: Nothing yet. You?  
**_

_**Daniel: Drawing a blank. Little thirsty.  
**_

_**Mitchell: That doesn't count.  
**_

_**Daniel: No it doesn't.**_

_**-Stargate: SG1**_

_**(&)**_

_**Jack**_

Frankly, the kid looked like shit. After arguing with Daniel about why Babylonian architecture was superior to Roman architecture, she'd fallen asleep on Locke's shoulder after getting in the final word on her argument. Now, she was pale and shivering and generally looking pathetic.

Sgt. Locke was a single father with two sons and he looked fairly resigned when her head had started nodding in his direction. The other marine, Topry had looked flat out panicked, but Angel had finally settled for Locke. The man appeared to have adapted to the idea of being a pillow rather quickly and had wrapped an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to make her more comfortable. Angel muttered something and shifted. I saw Topry wince and deduced that her combat boot had hit him in the leg.

"Hey, uh, Doc, what'd she say?" Locke asked, keeping his voice low. Daniel who was reading something by pen light in the backseat didn't even acknowledge the question.

"Jackson?" Locke asked again.

"She said 'macaroni and cheese'." Daniel said, not even looking up from whatever he was working on.

"You speak 'sleeping teenager,' Danny boy?" I asked. He glanced up at me and glared in my direction. I wasn't sure if it was because of the nickname or because he just felt like it.

"Fluently." He muttered, eyes already back on whatever he'd been working on. I rolled my eyes and turned back around.

Ten miles later, Angel woke up. She sat straight up, knocking Locke's arm off her shoulder and blinked, eyes wide and slightly glassy.

"I think I'm going to be sick." She said, swallowing hard. Topry and Locke jerked back, apparently more afraid of a car-sick teenager than say whiplash. The driving SF apparently understood what a sick teenager could mean and pulled off the road with a screech of brakes that had us all straining against our seatbelts.

Angel crawled across Topry and was out the door in under four seconds. The six of us all stayed in the SUV and listened to the sounds of a teenager loosing her pretzels. Finally, Daniel spoke up.

"Isn't someone gonna get out and make sure she's okay?" Six pairs of eyes slid in my direction.

"What?" I protested. "She's not my responsibility.

Locke muttered something under his breath. I glared in his direction and he found something else to look at.

"I'm not doing it." Barrett spoke up from the back.

"I'm not doing it either. The last time I tried to help her, she threw up on my shoes." Daniel said. Although we'd never admit it, every man in the car made a face.

"Fine. You pansies." I undid my seat-belt and opened the door. Once outside, I wondered what I was going to do. I had no experience with sick teenagers. I needed Fraiser or at the very least a soccer mom who'd raised four kids and knew what to do when an adolescent was throwing up.

After standing next to the SUV for a few minutes, I figured out that it would probably be helpful if I was on the same side of the car that she was. I skirted the back of the SUV and found Angel on her hands and knees, loosing the contents of her stomach all over the side of the road.

"Gack." I winced as she coughed and leaned back, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. Her face had no color and I started to worry a little bit.

"In case you're wondering, Jon sits beside me when I get sick. He even holds my hair out of my face." She said, eyes still closed. I was starting to think she had a career in Black-Ops when she got older.

"Yeah, well, I'm not Jon and… your hair's in a ponytail." The kid turned, opening one eye to look at me. I could feel the censure burning twin holes of guilt through me and somehow, ended up crouching next to her, knees complaining loudly.

"What's the matter?" I asked. Her eyes slid shut again.

"Oh, just my migraine medicine." She muttered.

"Your medicine does this?" I asked.

"Well, I got hit and my headache turned into a migraine so I popped a pill. Now, it feels like something's trying to eat my stomach." She muttered through gritted teeth. I grimaced.

"So why do you take it if it makes you sick?" I asked, putting a steadying hand on her shoulder as she swayed a little.

"Cause it gets rid of my headaches." She said.

"Okay, well, do you think you can stand?" Angel held out a hand towards me. It would have been a endearing and trusting motion if she hadn't extended her pointer finger, leaned over and thrown up again.

Two minutes later, she was done. At least, I thought she was done. I offered my hand again and she took it. The kid was a little too light, I thought as I hefted her to her feet.

"Ready to get back in the car?" She shook her head. Even though I didn't want to admit it, I felt sorry for her. Best friend gets kidnapped, gets stuck with a bunch of grumpy old men, and then her medicine makes her sick. Probably not one of the best days in her life.

"I think…" Those were the last words I heard because she disappeared. Just like that. Oh, sure there was the traditional flash of light and the sonic whine that shrieked through my head, but no Angel. Luckily, I kept my wits about me and rememebered what was important.

"Daniel's gonna kill me."


	15. Chapter 15

**_Mitchell: I read the mission reports on the Asgard...they're not what I expected.  
_**

****

**_Sam: What were you expecting?  
_**

****

**_Mitchell: Well, pants for one._**

_**Stargate: SG1**_

_**(&)**_

_**Angel**_

Remember that movie _Independence Day _when the alien is chasing Will Smith and then he crashes his space ship in the desert and Will Smith opens the ship and the alien's all like 'ROAR!'? And then Will Smith punches him and is all 'Welcome to Earth?"

I didn't say "Welcome to Earth," but I did punch the alien.

I suppose should have felt bad about it, but I couldn't muster up that particular feeling because I needed to throw up again. So, I did.

The alien managed to stumble to his feet as I finished tossing my figurative cookies. He looked a little lop-sided, probably because he wasn't used to getting punched. I decided to try a more diplomatic approach.

"Look, Thor, it's great that you wanted to see me, but I really, really, _really _need to be back down on Earth." The alien blinked at me. It was hard to tell, but he looked a little cross-eyed. And he apparently wasn't talking to me either.

"Okay!" I threw my hands in the air. "I'm sorry I punched you! Will you send me back down to Earth?" I asked.

"I am not Thor." This time it was my turn to blink at him.

"Excuse me? You wanna repeat that?" I asked. He looked at me, one rail thin arm reaching up to brush his head, probably checking to make sure I hadn't ruptured anything.

"I am not Thor." I felt like the world was spinning out from under me. Considering the fact that I was ten miles above the Earth's atmosphere, it was a pretty trippy feeling. I was also a little annoyed with Jack and Daniel. They hadn't mentioned that Thor had an evil twin.

"Okay, then give me one damn good reason why I shouldn't hit you again?" The alien swept his hand over a nearby console as I took a few steps forward and I ran, nose-first into a force-field.

"Ow! SONUVABITCH!" I yelped as I clutched my throbbing nose and glared at him. I think he smiled.

"Please remain calm." He intoned, looking over the console in front of him. I scowled. If this guy thought I was remaining calm, especially in the middle of being kidnapped, he had obviously failed to do his research on independent earth girls.

"Oh, I'll remain calm all right. I'll be calm after I kick your scrawny ass across the galaxy and back." I snapped. His lips twitched… I think.

"My name is Loki." He said. I prodded my sore nose one more time and then folded my arms across my chest.

"Loki? As in the Norse God of Mischief? That Loki?" He blinked at me, obviously startled that I knew about him.

"Tell me of the clone." It wasn't the greatest change in subject that I'd ever seen, but it worked. I sat down in my little prison and glared.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, you little ET wannabe." I muttered.

"I believe he goes by Jon Hammond." The calm and rational way the alien was speaking in was starting to remind me of a movie I watched about a psycho serial killer.

"And I still don't know what you're talking about." I said. Loki made a movement across the console and an image of Jon popped up in front of me.

The image blinked down at me. I stuck my hand through it's knee.

"I had been lead to believe that you cared greatly for him." Loki said and I felt the tell-tale prick of tears behind my eyelids.

"If you are willing to tell me all that you know, I can rescue him." Ignoring the hologram in front of me, I stared at the floor, blinking rapidly in a sad effort to chase away my tears.

"Would you let his death be on your conscience?" That was when I started to cry. The alien just blinked.

"They will kill him." Loki said and I moved from silently sobbing to full on bawling. The alien's eyes went so wide I thought they were going to pop out of his head. He muttered to himself as he moved things on his console, completely ignoring me as I cried until I couldn't cry anymore.

And that's how I ended up curled up on the floor of an alien space-ship, my previous migraine coming back in full force because of the space travel and the crying and the general stress. I'd curled into a little ball, ignoring the alien with as much fervor as he was ignoring me. And then all of a sudden, the ship dissolved around me.

Wherever I ended up was dimly lit. And carpeted. I could feel the plush flooring pressing against my face and I sat up, able to make out dim shapes of furniture and what looked like luggage stacked in the corner.

"Hello?" I called, sitting up.

"Angel?" I froze, halfway risen to my feet.

"Jon?" I whipped my head around just as Jon launched himself off the massive bed in the corner. In two quick steps, he was across the room and I'd been swept off the floor into a bone-crushing hug. I returned it, burying my face in the side of his neck.

We stayed like that for a little while, me clinging to him, barely balancing on my tip-toes as I told myself he was okay. It felt nice to be hugged like I'd been lost at sea for the last five years, but I couldn't breathe.

"Jon." I poked him in the rib-cage. "Can't breathe." He loosened his grip, but refused to relinquish it. I didn't mind either as my feet regained full connection with the ground and I rested my head against his chest. Then he pulled back and looked down at me.

"Did you just get beamed in here?" He asked. I shrugged.

"Yes. She did." A new voice joined the mix. Jon and I whirled around. Daniel stood in the doorway.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Dr. Simon Tam**_**_: Oh, one simple job! She'll be fine!  
__Capt. Malcolm Reynolds__: She is fine! Except for being still crazy, she's a picture of health!_**

_**Serenity **_

_**(&)**_

_**Jack**_

After everyone had gotten out of the car and Daniel had thoroughly inspected the area around the car to make sure I hadn't killed the kid and shoved her up under the wheel-well or something, we all got back in the car and sat there. Men of decision, that was us.

"So, do you think it was Thor?" Daniel asked from the backseat.

"Who else would've?" I asked, throwing in my best 'duh' tone of voice. There was brief moment of silence before I started to feel Daniel glaring at me through the headrest.

"Loki." He finally muttered.

"I thought the Asgard locked him up." I asked, turning to peer into the depths of the SUV. I couldn't see him, but I imagined him sitting back there, arms crossed, scowling, glaring, plotting my painful demise.

"Well, he's not known for being a trickster because he knows good pranks to pull at slumber parties." Daniel shot back and I saw some phantom light glint off his glasses. Properly cowed, I sat back in my seat and stared out the windshield.

"Well, do you think he'll send her back?" Barrett asked. We all stopped and pondered that for a moment. Personally, I'd have taken one look at her and sent her right back. No use in keeping a hand-grenade around when the pin had already been pulled.

"Depends," Daniel drawled, sounding amused. "Would you wanna keep her around your spaceship for very long?" And with that comment, we all settled back and waited for Angel to reappear.

Forty minutes later, I was praying for either a lightning bolt from on high or my Gameboy. In the back, Daniel was having a rapid paced conversation with Barrett in Spanish and the marine sitting next to me had his forehead resting on the steering wheel. Just when I was thinking he'd fallen asleep, he spoke.

"If it was Loki, he'd've given her back by now, wouldn't he?"

"Not unless she clocked him like she did Jack." Daniel piped up from the back. Three pairs of curious eyes settled on me and even the marine who'd been slumped over the wheel rolled his head to look up at me.

"She hit you? That little thing?" I turned around and glared at Topry. He in turn, turned to stare out the window, but he was smiling.

"It was a truly classic moment." Daniel couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut.

"Okay," I interrupted. "We get it. She hit me." Daniel wasn't finished though.

"Right across the jaw with a right hook. Like she took lessons from Teal'c." Daniel was enjoying his teasing a little too much.

"Yeah, well…" I left that hanging unable to think of a good comeback. Turns out I didn't need to think one up because that sonic whine and blinding flash came back and when I opened them, the man sitting next to me was gone.

"Okay, that wasn't supposed to happen." A voice said from behind me. I turned around and found not Topry and Locke, but Carter. We blinked at each other for a while.

"Sir?" She asked, looking as confused as I felt.

"Carter. Join me." With a sigh, she scrambled over the console and dropped into the driver's seat.

"So, uh, what were you doing just now?" I asked.

"Talking to Thor. He was supposed to be transporting me to you. Well, the clone you, anyway." I digested that bit of information for a little while as Carter took in our current situation.

"Um, sir, why were you pulled over to the road?" She asked, turning back to me.

"Kid got car-sick." Short. Succinct and to the point. Carter made a face.

"So, uh, you're here and everyone else… isn't." I said, burrowing deeper into my jacket. The SUV was starting to take on an ice-box feel. Carter shrugged and that's when I noticed she was in civvies.

"Where's your uniform?" I asked. She looked down and then back up at me.

"Where's yours?" Carter asked. I blinked at her and she grimaced.

"Sorry, sir. Just kind of slipped out." I nodded, leaning back just in case she'd developed a case of 'Angel-itis.'

"Right. So, uh where'd Daniel and others go?" I asked. Carter fumbled in her pocket for a minute and then brought out one of those jewel communicators that Thor kept just lying around his ship.

"Thor?"

There was another flash of light and Daniel was sitting in the back seat, blinking.

"Hi." I said and got a blink.

"Yeah, I'm not sure I like that technology anymore." He said, leaning forward.

"Well, it's certainly not helping right now." Carter muttered. I could almost see the wheels in her head turning.

"What're you thinkin', Carter?" I asked. She shrugged.

"What if it's…" Her voice trailed off. "Frankly, I have no idea." The way her fingers were drumming on her knee, I could tell she wanted to be typing on keyboard, figuring out some ingenius equation. Thor chose that particular moment to beam us out.

"If that car gets stolen, I'm putting your name on the expense voucher." I said. Thor blinked at me. The three SF's were clustered around the big window, staring at the Earth below and having a mumbled conversation. Barrett was trying his damndest not to look out the window.

"Hey, Thor, is Loki still locked up?" Daniel asked, leaning back against a console.

"That is what I have just learned, Dr. Jackson. Loki has recently been discovered missing. The Asgard High Council believes that he has come back to Earth to study the clone." I felt my teeth grit at the admission.

Great, just great. Not only was I apparently dating a teenage former running back who frequently liked to kick me in the shins, but now, someone on the planet in an undisclosed location, a little gray alien was performing experiments on me. And to make it better, he might not even have been on Earth. Oh, yeah, just great.


	17. Chapter 17

_**Hodgins: This conspiracy thing is a lot more intense when you're in the middle of it.**_

_**Bones**_

_**(&)**_

_**Jon**_

Angel was without a doubt, most definitely _**NOT** _part of my grand, magnificent and otherwise brilliant plan to escape from the nefarious and villainous clutches of the nameless government shadow organization.

Meanwhile, back in reality, if we were really being completely honest with ourselves, which I obviously wasn't, I _had_ no grand plan to escape. However, if I had… Angel wouldn't have been part of it. So, far the only thing I'd figured out was we weren't gonna get out of the current situation easily.

As soon as "Daniel" had made his presence known, I'd stepped in front of her, a military reflex left over from my days with SG1. She stood on her tiptoes, staring at "Daniel" over my shoulder. She was probably staring because of the gun in his hand.

I knew that Angel had seen _CSI_. We watched it on Monday night, we watched it on Wednesday night and we watched it on Thursday night. And I knew that she knew that bullet _can _go through two people. "Daniel" gave Angel the evil eye one more time and then with an inaudible mutter, left the room.

Five seconds after that, I was flat on my back.

"Ow." I groaned, trying to roll onto my side, but my body wasn't functioning enough to allow me to do that. Finally, I just flopped onto my back and stared up at her.

"You. Scared. Me!" Angel stepped forward as she spoke and emphasized each word with a 'Brazilian soccer player on steroids' kick to my leg. As if getting two gallons of my blood sucked out today wasn't enough, now, I had to deal with the angry midget.

"Ow! I'm sorry! Ow, ow, I said, ow!" I yelped, rapidly clamoring to my feet, barely avoiding another kick aimed at a region that I'd rather not have kicked. Angel could have had a career in soccer.

"I thought you were dead, you idiot!" Angel yelled, still coming after me. It was like being chased by an angry leprechaun, but I figured that now was a bad time to bring that up. Probably never would have been a good time to bring it up. Yeah, definitely never.

"Yeah, well, same here!" I yelled back as I ducked under a punch that could have undoubtedly broken my nose and somehow managed to get a chair between us.

"Why would I be dead?" Angel snapped, grabbing and hurling a nearby book at me. Honestly, her anger management issues would have been far more amusing if they hadn't manifested themselves through violence.

"Because I didn't know where you were and no one would tell me anything!" Angel reached for something else to throw. She settled for the television remote and hurled it with deadly accuracy. I ducked and it shattered against the wall behind me.

"Anything else you'd like to yell about?" I asked, putting a little more space between us. Angel hurled another book. I caught it and threw it back. She shrieked as it bounced off her hip.

"You never told me you were a clone!" I froze mid-dash to the bathroom door. Angel was breathing hard, eyes narrowed with deadly intent, hands clenched into fists at her sides. I cursed under my breath. Regardless of her bravado, Angel was still just a teenage girl who'd been forcibly overloaded with one of the biggest secrets on the face of the planet. I'd overlooked that, but mostly because she had been throwing books at the time. Now, I decided it was my turn to be a little grumpy.

"And how was I supposed to broach this topic?" I asked, adopting a cheery, stewardess tone of voice. "Hi, I'm Jon and I'll be your best friend. Oh, yeah, and did I forget to mention that I'm the clone of a United States Air Force officer who works at a top secret military facility where I deal with aliens on a daily basis?"

Angel growled and lunged, catching me around the waist. Luckily, for the plush carpeting, my spine took it rather well when we hit the floor. Wrestling with Angel was nothing new. We'd done it a couple hundred times before. Wrestling with Angel when she was mad, however, was different. Of course, having had training from Teal'c, I soon got the upper hand, pinning her.

"Are you gonna calm down?" I asked, suddenly all too aware that this was my best friend I was currently straddling. My female best friend. The one I'd just discovered that I was in love with.

"No, because I'd really like to hit you." She muttered, fighting against the grip I had on her wrists. I sighed and leaned back, but didn't let her go.

"Maybe _I_ want to hit _you_." I said. Angel paused, her big blue eyes widening. I seized on the moment and let go of her wrists. Instead of hitting me, she sat up on her elbows and stared at me.

"Look, Angel, I'm sorry, but it was top-secret." I apologized, moving off her. Big mistake. Knee right to the side of my ribcage. I landed on my back, gasping for breath and in a flash, _she_ was on _me_.

"I'm your best friend. A little hint would've been nice." Angel muttered, her grip on my wrists a little more bruising than mine had been. Luckily, it wasn't as strong. I broke out of her grip and grabbed her arms, pulling her down. We were now nose to nose. That irritating side of my brain that had told me I was in love with her was now telling me to kiss her. The slightly homicidal expression on her face sort of ruined the moment.

"What do you wanna know?" I asked. Wrestling before had always ended with pain or someone throwing a pitcher of beer on us, and it didn't look like either was going to happen soon.

"What?" Angel froze, confused.

"What do you wanna know?" I repeated. Her clenched fists relaxed, her palms splaying across my chest as she regarded me with suspicion.

"Hey, I'm giving you a back-stage pass here." I said, loosening my grip on her wrists. One of her fingers tapped my collarbone as she stared at me, clearly deciding whether or not to trust me. She chewed on her lower lip, not meeting my eyes. I'd sort of known it was coming. We were going to have to get reacquainted again and the first time hadn't exactly been a walk on Easy Street.

"Are you really Jack O'Neill's clone?" The question caught me a little off guard. I stuttered for a little bit and then fell silent. With a grunt of annoyance, Angel moved, preparing to stand. I tightened my grip and she looked back down at me.

"Yeah." That word hung in the air between us. "We're pretty much two separate people, well, now we are. I mean, I still like beer, but other than that we're… different." Angel sighed and leaned down, resting her chin on my chest, still watching me.

"Anything else you want to know?" I asked. Angel sat up a little bit, propping her chin up on her hands.

"How old are you?" She asked, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. I put on a mock expression of pain.

"Oh, that cuts deep, Angel. You're gonna make me feel old." I said, sitting up. Angel slid unceremoniously to the floor as I stood and offered her my hand.

"How old?" She asked, following me as I walked to the bed and collapsed on it. The headache from my earlier blow had come back full force and brought friends. I flicked off the bedside lamp and immersed the room in darkness.

"I'm not telling you how old I am." I said as Angel joined me on the bed. I scooted over into the middle, laying spread-eagle. She curled into my side, settling into the crook of my arm, her head on my shoulder.

"Fine. Are you married?" She asked, sliding closer, curling an arm across my stomach.

"Was." I could feel sleep start at the edges of my mind.

"And that's where Charlie came from?" She asked. I froze for a minute, but her hand patted at my ribs and I relaxed.

"Yeah." I said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. She was silent after that, her breathing evening out. I fell asleep a few minutes later.


	18. Chapter 18

**Weir: Hey what are you guys doing?  
Sheppard: I'm teaching Teyla how football's the cornerstone of western civilization.  
Weir: ...and you didn't invite me?  
Sheppard: You like football?  
Weir: No, not really.  
Sheppard: Oh, come on. It's real, it's unpredictable, it's full of passion and beer, hotdogs...  
McKay: Cheerleaders.**

_**Stargate: Atlantis**_

_**(&)**_

_**Daniel**_

"Okay, is there any way that she's part of it?" I glanced over at Jack. He had taken a seat at one of the navigation consoles and was spinning back and forth, back and forth in the chair.

"Angel? You think Angel had something to do with the kidnapping?" I couldn't keep the incredulity out of my voice. Jack shrugged.

"I don't think so, sir." Sam interrupted before I could call Jack something bad in Abydonian. "I've read her school file." She trailed off after that as if unsure as how to proceed. Jack made an impatient gesture as he spun to his left.

"Well, sir…" Sam's voice trailed off again. Jack stopped spinning and stared at her.

"Sir, she was a cheerleader." I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. There it was. Angel's deep, dark secret exposed for the entire world to see. No one said a thing for at least five minutes as I plotted on how best to do damage control.

"_No_, she played football." Jack said, staring at Sam like she was an alien. Sam's blonde hair danced under the lights as she shook her head.

"No, sir. Angel played football fifth grade through eighth and then she joined the cheerleading squad her freshman year of high school." Jack's head rotated in my direction.

"Daniel?" He asked, his tone deceptively calm. I shrugged.

"Is there something you'd like to tell us?" Jack further prompted.

"Nope. I think I'm good." I said, folding my arms across my chest.

"Daniel." It was an order, not a request.

"Sam just said it. Angel was a cheerleader." I smiled, satisfied with my explanation.

"Daniel, the kid I met today was the furthest thing from a cheerleader I have ever met." Jack was glaring at me.

"Appearance can be deceiving, O'Neill." Thor spoke up. Jack sent a glare in the alien's direction. Then he looked back at me.

"Spill." He said. I folded my arms across my chest.

"I don't see how Angel being a cheerleader gets her off the hook." Barrett spoke up.

"Well, think of it this way. How does she go from cheerleader to kidnapping accomplice?" Sam asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"All it takes is a threat or a bribe and anyone can do something out of character." Barrett replied. I glared at him.

"Look, this conversation is pointless. Angel is not involved. She's a victim." I said, glaring at Jack.

"Are you positive?" He asked. I threw my hands in the air.

"Jack! It's Angel. Jon and Angel are _in love_. She didn't help kidnap him!" Silence reigned after my outburst and I winced. Hadn't meant to let that much slip.

"In love? Like they're dating?" Jack looked horrified at the thought.

"No, in love like they constantly dance around the subject and fall asleep on the couch together all the time." I said, sighing.

"But I don't…" Jack trailed off, looking around the bridge as he remembered we had an audience.

"Don't like over-opinionated red-heads?" I asked, trying not to grin.

"Not in high school, I didn't. I went for…" He trailed off again as Sam's head cocked to the side and a smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

"Went for what, sir?" She asked. Jack's mouth opened and closed a few times and then he glared at me.

"So, she's not part of this?" He asked, and I shook my head.

"Right. So, Thor, any idea what's up with your beaming stuff?" Jack said, clumsily changing the subject. I rolled my eyes.

"I am unsure of the error, O'Neill. It merits further investigation. Perhaps if Major Carter will assist me." Sam nodded and joined Thor over at the console.

"Danny, a word." I sighed and followed Jack across the deck. We stopped, ten feet away from everyone else.

"So, about this 'being in love' thing…"


End file.
